Through and Through
by Melly-V-Mel
Summary: After the death of his ex-wife, a single father struggles to bond with his daughter. Things become even more difficult when a turn of events lands them both in Middle Earth, with no knowledge of how to return home. Stuck in this new foreign land, they struggle with their inner feelings while trying to adjust to their unique situation.
1. When it Comes

**I've been battling with the idea of starting a LOTR fanfiction, mainly because I couldn't think of any ideas that weren't cliche and very Mary-Sueish. Yes, this is a 'Falls into Middle Earth' take, I'm testing the waters here, but hopefully the mindset I have with this storyline won't end up a total disappointment. I hope that you all get to enjoy it! Please Rate and Review so I know if I should continue on with this!**

_**Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**_

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_Some believe that the Universe holds greater mysteries. I never really thought about it myself, up until the moment that this so-called 'mystery' came face to face with me and my daughter. Whatever happens, it's up to me to protect her and keep her safe from all the things in this world that want to harm her. After all, that's what fathers do.  
_

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Quick footsteps. Lots of shuffling. Occasional tripping on the carpet and cursing. John Howard struggled to put his pants on and stuff his feet in his tennis shoes before grabbing the car keys and dashing out the apartment door. Damn. He had forgotten Mirian's gymnastic performance at the high school. _Twice_. It took a TV commercial on the Olympics to remind him of his promise to her.

'Shit, she's going to kill me.' He thought as he got into the car, fumbled with the seat-belt for a second or two, then turned on the engine before backing out of the parking lot. On his way to Preston High School John couldn't help but beat himself up for this. He hadn't done it intentionally; his mind was just…off. It has been like that ever since his ex-wife passed away 3 months ago. Naturally he gained custody of his 15-year-old daughter, who he could barely talk to.

About 15 minutes later, John pulled up into the school's driveway and parked at an empty spot, not even bothering to see that he had done so diagonally before he got out of the car and ran off to the school gymnasium.

'This school is a damn maze!' He thought, panting as he had been running around the place for at least 3 minutes now. Finally he saw a sign on the double doors labeled 'GYM' and he pushed through them. People were already heading out through the exit doors, and John realized that he had not made it. He was too late. With a face of defeat, he walked past the other parents congratulating their daughters for their performance, and on the benches he spotted Mirian carelessly stuffing her gymnastic clothes in her duffel bag.

She zipped it, put the strap over one shoulder and looked up, pausing when she saw her father. John nearly winced at the look she was giving him. He made slow steps towards her.

"Hunny I'm so sorry…" He tried, but Mirian just walked right past him.

"Forget it, let's just go." She mumbled, but there was obvious contempt behind those words. John sighed and looked up at the ceiling before following after his daughter. The first half of the drive back home was dead silent. He didn't know what to say to her. Sorry obviously didn't work. He stopped at a red light and drummed his fingers on the wheel for a second.

"So…how was it?" He finally asked, but received no answer. He glanced over to Mirian, who had her face turned to the window. Seemed like she was going to give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the night.

'Can't say I blame her.' He thought, looking back ahead as the light turned green and he began to drive again. Once they pulled up on the parking lot, he turned the engine off and got out of the car. Mirian shut the door hard and sped walked to the sidewalk, and up the stairs. Once again John sighed, and followed after her. Getting inside, he slowly shut the door behind him and went up stairs to Mirian's bedroom, where she was already laying in bed, with the headphones on. John leaned in and knocked on the door before walking up and sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Look Mirian, I'm sorry I didn't make it to your performance." She didn't look at him, just stared up with a cold-stone face. John frowned a bit and tried to put a comforting hand on her arm, but she just pulled away and turned her back to him. He shook his head, then stood up and decided to just leave her be.

'I don't know what to do anymore.' He thought, running a hand through his brown hair as he made way down to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Ever since he and Mirian's mother had gotten that divorce when she was 12 she's been distant from him. He tried to mend the bond they had with each other, but with her teenage years having rolled in it became a struggle. Mandy knew how to talk to her, he didn't.

John grabbed a beer can out of the fridge and popped it open before taking a large gulp of it. He then made way into the living room and sat on the couch, reprising his original position on it before turning the TV back on. The game was on, but he didn't pay much attention to it.

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It was Saturday afternoon, and John figured he'd to something to make up for missing Mirian's performance last night. He went up her bedroom door and gave three knocks on it. He waited a few seconds, and was about to knock again when the door opened abruptly and he stared right at his daughter.

"What?" She asked, sound impatient and annoyed. John bit back from scolding her attitude, as he put on a pleasant smile.

"Hey, I was thinking..how about you and I go out today? I heard the Carnival is in town this weekend. Remember how we used to go there sometimes?" He was met with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm not a kid anymore dad." She was about to shut the door, but he put his hand on it and pushed it back open.

"Oh come on hunny, it'll be fun! Let's just go there and get a feel for it, and after 5 minutes if you still don't want to be there we'll come right back home. Okay?" Mirian stared at him for what seemed like the longest time. She finally gave an exasperated sigh, caving in.

"_Fine_." She went back in her room and put on some sneakers before grabbing her bag and walking out. A grinning John followed after her. They got into the car and off they went. The drive lasted 20 minutes before they found a parking spot, and got out. The Carnival was bustling with noises from the many rides, as well as the occasional scream of delight from the visitors. They made way through the green gates and John looked around, his mind filling with memories.

"I'm going over there." Mirian then said, already walking off to look at some of the booths.

"Stay where I can see you!" He called out to her before he himself started to explore a little. There were the traditional trailer food stands selling funnel cakes, corn dogs, popcorn, cold drinks, and all other sorts of things. He passed the first few, before one caught his eye. Smiling, John remembered that Mirian used to love Carnival snow cones, so he went up to the stand and paid for one. Turning around, he paused and looked left and right for her.

"I told her to stay where I could see her." He sighed, heading off to hunt for the girl. Surprisingly it didn't take too long for him to find her, standing in front of a game booth and staring at one of the prizes.

"Hey hunny, what are you looking at?" He asked as he walked up from behind her. She jumped a little.

"Jesus dad! Don't just come up to me like that." She huffed, before looking at what he had.

"Oh yeah, here you go," He said, extending the cherry flavored ice cone. "It's your favorite."

Mirian stared at him, before shaking her head and just taking it from him. John then looked at the prize she was eying before; it was a stuffed tiger.

"Do you want me to get that for you?" He asked.

"Like you could, let's just keep going." She instantly said when he offered, but John wouldn't have it at that.

"Oh come on, give your old man a try will ya?" He walked off to a nearby ticket booth, and got 2 tickets before coming back and handing them to the game owner.

"Here you go sir," He handed him an airsoft rifle. "You have 20 shots. If you hit 15 marks or above you get to pick from the big prizes; 8-14 and you pick from the smaller ones. Good luck!" John positioned the rifle and squinted one eye as the owner pulled a lever and the targets began to move back and forth. John took 5 instant shots, hitting 2. The next 7 shots were made, hitting 5 more. The next 4 he missed altogether, and the remainder of the shots he managed to get 3 more with a final count of 10 hit marks. He sighed a bit as that was not enough to get Mirian the stuffed tiger. He could tell Mirian was disappointed too, even when she didn't show it.

"Congrats sir! Take your pick from the small prizes." He motioned his hand to the trinkets hanging above the stand. Nothing seemed worth having.

"Which one do you want?" He tentatively asked Mirian, who just sighed and walked off. John looked back at the trinkets and decided on a small penguin keychain. Stuffing the prize inside his jacket pocket, he hurried off after his daughter.

"This was stupid." Mirian muttered to herself, having walked out of the Carnival.

"Mirian!" John called, jogging up to her. He put a hand to her shoulder and turned her to him.

"What's the matter? You don't want to get on the rides?" Mirian gave him a look.

"Dad, I told you I'm not a kid anymore. I want to go home." She said, turning back around and heading off to the parking lot. John frowned and continued after her.

"Mirian I'm trying here, I really am!" He said, feeling frustrated with no success at making her smile in the slightest.

"Well you're doing a really poor-ass job at it!" She spat back. That was it. John had it with her disrespect.

"Do not talk to me like that young lady, I'm still your father!" He stated, his tone of voice harsh. Before she could give another remark, a guy jumped up in front of them and grabbed Mirian's bag before running off. She gasped.

"M-My bag! He stole my bag!" She dropped her ice cone and started running after the robber. John could barely react in time to what was happening before he went after her.

"Mirian stop! Get back here!" He called out. His heart already pounded like mad to the thought of the robber possibly hurting her for going after him, but the robber seemed more intent in running away from them than anything else. Mirian chased after him, and John chased after her, them crossing a street and heading well into the city woods. The sky was already dark at that time, and John could barely see Mirian in front of him now.

"Mirian come back!" He shouted, trying his best to keep up. He lost sight of her for a few seconds once they were deep in the woods, him having no choice but to stop to catch some of his breath. But what came next threw that idea right out of his mind. Mirian's sudden scream cut through the air and he panicked. Running faster than he had been, he tried to find her.

"Mirian! Mirian where are you?!" He called over and over, until he heard her cry again.

"Dad help!" He took a turn towards where he thought he heard her voice, and nearly toppled down a small cliff.

"Mirian?" He called again.

"Dad!" He looked down and his eyes widened when he saw his daughter below, clinging to a small root sticking out of the cliff wall. There was a large lake below, but if she fell out she could still break something, and he did not want that.

"Hold on hunny I'll get you!" He said, looking around in the slight hope that he could find something that might help him in getting her out of there, but there was nothing. Having no real options, he got to the edge and laid on his stomach as he now tried to reach his arm to her.

"Grab my hand!" Mirian struggled to try and reach his hand.

"I can't reach it!" John moved his upper both further over the edge to see if he could reach her now.

"Try again!" Mirian did, and her fingers barely touched his. She pulled her arm back as it stung.

"I can't do it dad, I can't hold on!" Those words nearly sent John's head spinning.

"No, you have to hold on! You have to!" He begged as he inched further down, more than half his body over the edge as his knees and feet were the only thing supporting him now.

"Come on hunny, take my hand!" She looked up and once again stretched out her arm to grasp it, and this time she got hold of it. John could barely breathe as he now tried to pull her up, but his body was starting to slide further down the edge. He tried to grasp a nearby branch for more support, but he didn't take into account how fragile that branch was and with a snap, his body was propelled forward. Screaming, father and daughter both tumbled down the cliff and into the lake.

John soon broke the surface with a gasp, and instantly looked around for Mirian.

"Mirian?!" He called out, coughing water he had swallowed coming up. Seconds later there was another gasp a few ways from him. He quickly swam over to her and held her arms to keep her from going down as she tried to catch her breath.

"Mirian! Are you okay hunny?" He instantly asked and all she could do was nod at first as she coughed a few times.

"Come on, let's get out of the water." He said, grabbing hold of her waist before swimming them both to shore, despite feeling his arms stinging with pain from the fall. Once they got out, John examined his daughter to make sure that she didn't get hurt; there were a few scratches here and there, but other than that she seemed fine. He breathed a sigh of relief and laid back down as his own exhaustion and injuries started to become more known to him. He felt he must've hurt his left arm pretty bad, as whenever he tried to move it a certain way a pain would shoot right through him and he'd wince. Mirian soon crawled over to him.

"You okay dad?" He looked at her, ignoring his state to give a reassuring nod.

"I'm fine." She frowned a little, then looked around at their surroundings. It was pitch dark now, the only real source of light they had was the moon above, but even then it was still a hard to see through the dense woods. Her hand then reached for her purse, that is, until she remembered that the robber had stolen. Her cellphone was in there.

"Dad, do you have your cellphone? We should call for help, 911 or something." She said. John nodded and with a little trouble, reached in his jean pocket for his cellphone. He flipped it open and sighed when it didn't turn on; must've gotten damaged from the water.

"It's dead." He said, putting it away. Mirian groaned and sat back. He looked at the sky, finding it strangely littered with stars that night. After a few minutes of rest, John tried to stand up, ignoring a newly-found sore on his right leg now that he did.

"We should get out of these woods." He stated, looking around as he held onto his left arm. Mirian stood up and nodded, before they both slowly walked off and into the intense amount of bushes, trees, and plants surrounding them.

They walked and walked, for at least 20 minutes with no hope of finding a road or sound of civilization. John was already feeling drained, and the stinging pain in his arm was getting worse. Mirian was quiet.

"Alright, let's take a short break." He finally said, slightly limping over to a molded log and taking a seat. He stretched out his tired legs as he rubbed his left arm still, while Mirian sat down on a small boulder a little further to the left of him. It was once again quiet between them, it starting to get a little chilly as more time went by.

'I can't believe all this happened.' John thought, finding an almost sardonic humor in all the events leading up to now. He looked over at his daughter, who was looking like she wanted nothing more than to not have gone to that Carnival he begged to go with her.

'Naturally this is all my fault.' He sighed, looking down at the ground. He was so wrapped up in his guilt, that he did not hear a strange sound not too far from them, but Mirian did. Her eyes looked around wildly, before she got up and walked over to her father, tugging a little at his jacket.

"Dad, I think I heard something…" He snapped out and looked at her.

"What?" But Mirian couldn't repeat herself as another sound caught both their attention this time, and this sound, a growl, was not welcoming. Trying to think fast, John slowly stood up and held onto Mirian's arm.

"Let's keep going. Keep an eye out for anything, you hear?" Nodding, Mirian then slowly made way off with John following behind her, his eyes darting from side to side to make sure no wild animal of sorts was tracking after them. He looked behind him, but there was nothing but darkness there. He ended up bumping into Mirian, nearly stumbling back as he now turned ahead to question why she had stopped, but the sight in front of them created a lump in his throat like none before.

"What the hell is that?" She whispered, her body nearly shaking with fear at the sight. They had come upon a clearing, but the thing that was in it was what made them freeze in the spot. A man, no, a human-like creature, dark-skinned with a grotesque beastly face, was tearing apart at a human arm, a dead body lying at its feet. Blood running cold at the gruesome sight, John tried to put a firm hand on Mirian's shoulder, and he slowly lowered to her ear…

"Back away, slowly." He whispered. She couldn't even nod, but started to back away as he said, and he did the same. They did this very slowly to not get the attention of the creature in front of them. It didn't seem to have noticed them as it was too busy eating out the flesh of the victim...that is, until a loudly sound snap quickly made its head turn. Mirian's frightened eyes looked down at the twig she had just stepped on. The beast dropped the arm and now turned fully to them, a grim-like grin spreading across its face as its tongue licked over the lips. There was no other choice now, John gripped tight to Mirian's shoulder and he quickly pulled her off as he broke into a run. Mirian gasped and quickly picked up pace as the humanoid snarled and tailed after them. John's arm and leg were sending jolts of pain throughout his body as he ran, but he couldn't stop. He just couldn't. He kept a tight hold of Mirian's hand as he dragged her at his pace, for fear that she might fall behind, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

"Hurry!" He told her, pulling her more as he kept up the pace, but Mirian couldn't keep up. The woods proved harder to go through when running than walking. She lost her footing and crashed down onto the ground. John skidded to a stop, wincing at the pain before quickly turning around.

"Mirian!" He shouted, his eyes horrified at the approaching beast about to maul his daughter. John launched forward to try and get to her first, but he was pushed back by another creature like the first, this one holding a rusty sword in its hand. He fell back onto the ground and cried in pain at the impact it made on his left arm.

"Dad!" Mirian shrieked. She looked back at the beast running at her, letting out a blood curdling scream.

"Nooo!" John shouted, trying to get up only to get kicked in the stomach by the beast in front of him.

"Wretched human!" It snarled, catching John off guard when it spoke. The beast raised its sword to strike him, but a swift arrow struck through its skull, an expression of shock frozen on its face as it slowly tumbled down to the ground, dead. The beast about to attack Mirian got hit by two arrows to the chest, before also falling over. Mirian quickly scampered away from the fallen body. John stared in utter disbelief, his mind trying to process everything as it all happened so quick. Some voices were heard soon after, speaking a foreign language he had no idea of what it was, but fear struck him that they might be dangerous too.

"Mirian quick!" He called out to her. She looked back to him and sat up, but the sound of footsteps behind her caused her to look over and freeze once again. John winced as he tried to get up and reach her, when someone stepped in front of him. This someone was definitely human compared to the beasts now slain. He looked at the man standing before him, one with long dark hair, and a fairly handsome appearance. He spoke in the foreign language before he knelt down.

"Are you harmed?" He asked, and this time John understood him.

"M-My arm and my leg..." Was all he could say, before his eyes shot over to where Mirian was, being assisted by another man who had long golden hair; she seemed mesmerized by him. The dark haired man in front of him began to inspect his left arm and his leg, running a gentle hand over them. He pulled back when he put a hand on John's arm and he winced.

"We must take you to be treated." He said. "Can you stand?" John stared at him, before nodding and slowly stumbling up. The man held him for support, before slowly helping him off.

"Dad! Are you okay?" Mirian said, coming up to him, but pausing as she stared at dark haired one, uncertain.

"I'm fine sweetie, are you?" She looked back at him and nodded. The golden haired man said something to the dark haired one in the foreign language, before they proceeded to take John and Mirian out of the dense woods and into a dirt path where two other people waited with horses.

"We will ride you to Rivendell. There you will be able to get proper assistance on your injuries." The dark man said to John, who looked at him and nodded.

"Thank you so much, for saving us." He expressed, being very grateful for them intervening right when he felt that he and Mirian were done for. The man merely nodded to him before motioning for another, one that looked identical to him, to help get John onto a brown horse. The golden haired man helped Mirian onto a gray horse before mounting behind her. Once the dark haired man mounted behind John, the identical one climbed onto another brown horse, and the other man that was waiting with him climbing onto his before they rode off to this so called Rivendell. John's mind kept replaying the chase he and Mirian had with the ugly beast, and he just could not believe that such things even existed. As the horses galloped, John's pain and exhaustion soon caused him to black out.

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**Once again please Rate and Review! I'd really like to know if this story is likeable and if I should continue. Thanks! x**


	2. The Elves of Rivendell

**Hello! Quick announcement: I've gone back and edited Chapter one since I noticed a couple of grammar and sentence errors; no major parts of the story were altered.**

**Reviewers:**

**EvilBunny91: Thank you for the review! I didn't realize there were other stories like this haha, guess I'm not being that original, but hopefully it'll stay interesting for you!**

**mandiecandie: I'm glad you like it so far! **

**_Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters._  
**

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Coming upon a small narrow pathway up a tall hill, the horses soon slowed to a gentle trot. Mirian was much too shaken to even utter a word since they left the woods, but the sight before her momentarily took her mind away from it.

"Woah…" It was a beautiful cityscape, with splendorous architecture clearly visible even in the darkness of the night. There was faint illumination throughout, the most prominent source of light coming from the moon which gave it an ethereal glow. Hearing the astonishment in her voice, the blond haired man riding with Mirian looked down with a small smile.

"Does it impress you, little one?" Mirian didn't even have half the mind to call him out on calling her 'little one' as she just nodded her head, captivated by the beauty that was Rivendell. The blond then looked back at his companions and said something in their native language. The city's effect on Mirian seemed to wear off now as they neared a bridge, and she turned to the blond.

"By the way, who are you?" The blond turned back to her.

"My name is Glorfindel. I do believe yours is Mirian, am I correct?" She nodded, though still gave him a weird look when he said his name to her. It wasn't a common name, that much she was sure of. Glorfindel then looked ahead of them as his horse Asfaloth came to a steady stop after crossing the bridge. The other horses followed suit, and their riders dismounted. The one riding with an unconscious John requested help from the other to get the man down from the horse, being extremely careful since John had sustained more severe injuries. Glorfindel got off Asfaloth, and helped Mirian get down after. It didn't take long for others to rush down a flight of stairs towards the group. A rushed conversation was initiated between some of the riders, before John was carried off.

Mirian turned to Glorfindel with a look of worry. "Will my dad be okay?" Glorfindel looked down at her and nodded.

"Yes, he is in good hands with the healing elves." What he said at the end puzzled the girl.

"Wait…did you say elves?" The sound of doubt seemed to amuse the Lord slightly.

"Why yes, we are the elves of Rivendell. Have you not met an elf before, little one? I do suppose you are yet much young to have…" Mirian shook her head.

"Wait, that's not—elves don't _really_ exist…are you guys WoW or LARPing nerds?" It was Glorfindel's turn to give her a weird look. WoW? LARPing nerds?

"I fear I do not know what you speak of." Mirian sighed and gave a roll of her eyes.

"Of course you gotta stay in character at all times." She muttered under her breath. The elf could not for the life of him comprehend the things spewing out of her mouth, so he decided it best to just ignore it and let Lord Elrond deal with it.

"You have sustained some injuries as well. Perhaps it is wise to get them treated right away." He said, now walking in the direction of the House of Healing where Mirian's father was taken to.

"I'm fine, they're just scratches." She mumbled, but Glorfindel shook his head.

"Even so, they could possibly get infected, and that would not be something you would want." He said, before seizing the conversation and staring ahead. As they walked, Mirian's eyes kept looking left to right, trying to wrap her head around this bizarre place which she had no doubt about it being just a very elaborate set for the nerds who liked to act as if they were in the medieval times.

'This is a freak's place…I don't know if we should be here. For all I know they could be a bunch of whack-jobs.' She thought, them now entering one of the buildings, a strong scent of medicinal herbs hitting her nostrils. Mirian's nose scrunched up; she hated the smell of medicine or hospital smell in general. Glorfindel led her down a long hall and into an open room where there were elves moving about with herbs, washing the leaves and preparing several ointment assortments. Mirian rushed past him and to a bed where John lay, still unconscious.

"He's not…he's not dead is he?" She asked an elven woman who was a bit startled by her direct approach. Glorfindel sighed a bit, but he couldn't blame the girl for worrying about the man's health. It must've been truly a scare for her. He came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"He will be fine. They are treating his wounds, and you must now have yours looked at." Mirian hesitated a little when he led her to another bed where she sat down. Two other elves came up and started to look over her scratches; some were actually deep enough to have caused some minor bleeding. Glorfindel turned to the other three elves that had come along.

"Make haste to Lord Elrond and alert him of what has happened. Have more guards secure the borders of Rivendell in case there are other orcs lurking about." He told them, earning a curt nod as they then left to carry out their orders.

"Ouch." Glorfindel turned back around when he heard Mirian wince. One of the healers had dabbed a bit of the ointment on one of her scratches that supposedly stung.

"Apologies, my lady." He said sincerely, before being more careful with his treatment.

"It's okay." Mirian said, though she was still acting cautious around them, something the Lord had took instant notice.

'Does she not trust us even after we have saved them from those wretched orcs?' He thought. Her and the man she called 'dad' (what he now came to assume it meant 'father') wore some strange attires that he had yet to see anyone in all Arda wear. The girl's clothing in particular brought him curiosity, for it was not common for mortal girls to wear anything other than dresses. Perhaps it was a new custom that was starting among the race of men…

Once her wounds have been treated, Glorfindel decided to take her off to a room so she could rest, while the other healers continued to treat her father. One healer had assured them that John was going to be fine and that he would likely reach full recovery within a week or so. Mirian's expression seemed to relax a little when they told her that, but it didn't keep her from still having a lingering doubt in her eyes.

"Lady Mirian, if I may ask…what were you and your father doing in the woods at this time of night?" She looked at him and almost seemed to grimace when he reminded her.

"We were trying to get out of it, but it was too dark..and then that thing, that…what the hell was it?" Glorfindel figured she was talking about the orcs.

"Those things are called orcs. Fell beings, wretched and cruel in nature. It was indeed quite a strike of luck that you were heard and my company and I were able to reach you in time."

"Uh huh…" The Lord nearly frowned at the unconvincing tone she gave out. What was with this child?

'The race of men, I will never fully understand them.' He thought, before they reached another hall and walked down, him eventually stopping at a door and opening for her.

"You may rest here for the meantime. I will have some servants bring you some food shortly…and have them draw a bath as well." He didn't want to be impolite, but the smell she was giving off was that of a drenched rodent mixed with dirt and herbs, a combination not that appealing. Mirian said nothing to that as she walked in; the room was just as impressive as everything else in that place. The bed was carved out of fine wood, with intricate yet simple designs making up the headboard and the posts. The other furniture around the room was equally carved out of wood and with similar carvings. There was a balcony that had a great view of one of Rivendell's gardens. Needless to say it was like a fairytale room, in her opinion.

"So um...thanks for, you know…saving me and all." She awkwardly said as she turned back to the elf. Sure, she thought they were whacks, but if the attack was real, and to her it really did feel real, then them stepping in and killing those orcs was really a godsend. Glorfindel smiled and gave a small bow of his head.

"You are most welcome, my lady." He then turned and left so she could have her privacy while settling.

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Glorfindel proceeded to the study room where Lord Elrond resided. He hoped that by now he had been fully notified of the situation, and that he could perhaps provide some answers regarding the strangers. Upon reaching the Lord, Glorfindel touched his forehead in a manner of greeting and respect. Elrond smiled curtly and motioned him to come forth.

"I trust that our guests have been made comfortable?" Elrond spoke, with a look of calm and wisdom as he always did.

"Yes my Lord. The girl has been taken to a room for rest, while her father remains in the House of Healing in recovery." Elrond nodded before he stood up from his seat, his fingers lacing together as he walked down the small steps to stand in front of Glorfindel.

"It would appear that the sighting of orcs has increased among the outer walls of Rivendell." He stated, a notion that Glorfindel noticed greatly displeased the Lord of Rivendell. He felt the same.

"Yes, I have sent word for more guards to secure the borders."

"Good. We must make sure that this realm remains protected from evil for the sake of the residents, and our new guests. I do not like the mere thought of my home being threatened." The golden haired elf nodded in agreement. It was much too close a call, and he feared that had he and his company not been scouting around the woods at that time, that Mirian and her father would not have survived the orcs' attack. Another thought crossed his mind and his eyes cast down to the floor.

"My Lord, Thandir has fallen…one of the orcs…" He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. The loss of a fellow elf friend was always heartbreaking. Elrond himself frowned slightly at the news, though he already knew of what had become of him.

"Yes, my sons have told me. It is most unfortunate…we will have a lament for Thandir later in the evening. May his bravery be looked upon kindly in the halls of Mandos." He lowered his head briefly, murmuring a small bit of prayer for the fallen elf's soul. Glorfindel closed his eyes momentarily as his keen ears listened to the prayer, before he opened them back up to look at Elrond when he finished.

"My lord, have you any thought as to why the humans were in the woods? Or why they appear to be…peculiar?" He didn't quite know how to phrase it, because both gave an air of unfamiliarity. Lord Elrond looked to Glorfindel, his eyes reflecting that he didn't quite have the answer to that yet.

"I have not reached any theory as of yet, for I first wish to speak with our guests once they are fit to meet. For now make sure that they are cared for, as this is a hospitable home and I wish to remain it so."

"Yes my lord." Glorfindel gave a small bow before he left the study room.

* * *

John's eyes began to open, but quickly shut when rays of sunlight blinded him. He turned his head away and with a small groan, tried to open them back up.

'Where am I?' He thought, his blurred vision gradually readjusting so now he could look at his surroundings. He noticed he was in a room of sorts, with other beds lined in neat rows. He looked down and he himself was in a similar bed. He also caught the scent of herbs as he tried to sit up, but seized his attempt when met with the soreness of his body.

"Ugh, damn…" His hand reached for his left arm, feeling a fabric similar to gauze wrapped around the length of his forearm.

'Well, at least there's no pain now.' He thought positively, him now taking the time to survey the rest of the room. He now recognized it to be an impressive infirmary, and there was a wide balcony leading out of a wood framed double door. The outside scenery was what momentarily caught him off guard, just as the cityscape had done so to his daughter. At this moment, an elf approached his bed.

"You have awakened." John's eyes instantly turned to the elf who addressed him.

"Huh? Oh, yeah…how long was I out for?" The elf raised a perfectly structured brow.

"You have not left the House of Healing since your arrival." It was John's turn to raise a questioning brow.

"What? No, I mean how long was I asleep for?" The elf now resumed a calm expression.

"You were unconscious for the majority of last night and this morning. It is high noon now." John sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before another thought struck him right after.

"And my daughter? Is she alright?" He would never forgive himself if something happened to Mirian while he was out.

"Do not fret my friend, she is well." Another voice said, the owner headed their way. The elf healer bowed to Glorfindel, who did the same before he scampered off to see to his other duties. The elf Lord then turned to John.

"How are your wounds? Do they hurt?" John stared at him, for a moment saying nothing, before shaking his head.

"It's not hurting anymore, just sore." He said, and Glorfindel nodded.

"You said Mirian was fine, but where is she?" He asked now.

"She is resting in one of our lodgings. Do you wish for me to bring her to you?" John instantly nodded.

"Yeah, that would be great thanks." With another nod, Glorfindel set out to bring the youth to her father.

John let out a sigh of relief after he left. Good, she was safe. His thoughts then went back to last night and he frowned. Just what in the world was going on? What in god's name were those things? He might've mistook those ugly creatures for people with a lot of makeup, but the events that happened, the snarl and the chase…it all felt too real.

'I must be out of my mind.' He thought, as it wasn't the first time he's been delusional. There was one episode when he and Mandy were still together, and things just took a wrong turn…

He shook his head, not wanting to remember that part of his life. He had to come to terms that even though he felt like the place and its people were a little on the old-fashioned side, had it not been for Glorfindel and the others he and Mirian would've been made supper for the orcs.

John now tried to sit up again despite the soreness, and once he adjusted his body he leaned back against the headboard and breathed out a long sigh. His eyes kept to the view outside the balcony. Well, if anything this place also had an air of pleasantry.

* * *

Glorfindel made quick steps around Rivendell. Not too long after he left the House of Healing had he made way to where Mirian was staying, only to find out that the girl was not in there. Now the elf Lord had the tiring task of tracking her down, and he hadn't the slightest clue as to where she was.

'Valar give me strength to not lose my patience. This girl has an air of deviousness just as the twins had when they were elflings.' Thought the disgruntled elf, having circled around Rivendell for nearly 15 minutes now.

Glorfindel was a respected Lord, having slain a Balrog all on his own, and granted resurrection from the Halls of Mandos due to his bravery. But even a mighty warrior like himself felt at a loss when dealing with younger children, and his time spent trying to keep Lord Elrond's sons from causing too much chaos in their early ages was testament to that. Oh, they were the trickiest pair of elflings he had ever had the misfortune of dealing with. Not that he disliked Elladan and Elrohir altogether, but their keen sense of adventure in the form of pranks and jokes was enough to send the poised Balrog slayer into a fit of anger from their constant misbehavior. Since they were Lord Elrond's son he couldn't deal with them as he liked, but all the same he did not let them off easy, oh no; Glorfindel always made sure that each time they caused trouble they would get the most severe punishment possible, hoping that they would eventually learn their lesson. They never did.

It was a miracle that, with their coming of age and learned wisdom, the two actually became fine ellons and brave warriors, patrolling around the borders of Rivendell to assure the safety of the people residing within. His mind was brought out of that small recall of the past when he stopped short to the sound of music being played.

* * *

_-Earlier that Afternoon-_

Mirian had woken up late morning due to a stressful time in trying to get some sleep in. She couldn't stop her mind from replaying last night's events, but most importantly she couldn't shake off the terrifying image of the orc's face; it was as if it was imprinted in her head now. At one point, she had thought of the possibility of it all being a set up, but how could she explain the orc eating the arm? It could've been a prop, she figured, but the way she saw it…it just didn't feel fake or rehearsed. It was unnaturally real. Her mind kept trying to find every possible excuse in the book, and the more the list grew the more doubt she had. Elves? Orcs? Who in the world would come up with that mystic nonsense if not for super nerds?

Shaking her head, Mirian got out of the bed and walked over to the balcony, a breeze instantly hitting her face. She grumbled as some dust got caught in her eye and she tried to rub it off. At least these 'elves' had good manners, having brought her a good spread of food that night, as well as drawn a warm bath (on a very old-fashioned tub of some kind) for her to wash up. She had to admit the bath did wonders to her sore body, and it felt good to relax after so much running and getting scared out of her wits.

'Well, since I'm here might as well go check this place out.' She thought, going back into the room and trying to tame her wild hair to the point that it was decent enough, before dressing in a weird choice of clothes the elves had also brought for her the other night. When they tried to bring her a dress she argued her way into having them actually bring her a pair of pants and shirt. She noticed that the woman who had previously brought the dress for her didn't seem all that pleased with her request for male clothes, but she shrugged it off.

'This is, weird…' She thought, looking down at herself; she had on a moss-colored tunic and dark brown pants. Ditching the boots in preference to her sneakers, she at least had to admit the clothes were really soft and comfortable. After dressing, she quietly opened the door, looked down the hall both ways, then quietly slipped out. She walked for a while, passing a lot of intersections until finally reaching the outside. She took a deep breath of fresh air before crossing down to a stone walkway and carrying on.

In the first 20 minutes of walking Mirian noticed that the city was a perfect combination of man-made structure and wildlife. There was no sign of any kind of industrialization; no cars, no technology…

'A.K.A. the candyland of LARPing nerds.' She thought while passing a few strolling elves, who gave her curious looks. Mirian rolled her eyes.

'They act like they've never seen a teenage girl before.' She was coming up to a fork on the pathway, and was just about to head straight ahead when the sound of music hit her ears and she stopped. Curiously, she looked to the left where the walkway branched off, and for some reason turned and walked down that path. She walked until coming upon a clearing with a white octagonal-shaped gazebo in the middle. Vines naturally curled up and around the posts of the structure. She walked closer to it, drawn by the music still being played from within. An elf with long dark hair much like many others she saw was seated on a bench, his fingers expertly running over the strings of a harp. She looked on as the elf played the enchanting music. Mirian didn't know why she was so taken with it, or why her body decided on its own to have her approach the gazebo and walk up the platform where the elf was.

He looked on as she approached him, before slowly ending the melody.

"Is there something you wish of me, my lady?" He respectfully asked. Mirian looked at him, not saying anything, just staring. Finally, her mind broke loose of the strange spell she was in, and now looked around in embarrassment.

"I uh…I heard you playing, so…got curious." She about groaned at how stupid she sounded, but the elf smiled still.

"I often enjoy playing the harp. I have taken quite a liking to the sound of the strings; they form such a harmonious tune..." He said, fondly stroking the smooth wooden surface. Mirian looked at him oddly before slowly sitting down on another bench.

"So you're like a musician then." The elf gave a nod of his head.

"We commonly use the term 'minstrel,' but yes I suppose musician is also accurate." He said. Mirian nodded and looked at the harp; just like everything else in that place it was carved in the finest and most elegant way possible while keeping on to a theme of simplicity.

"That's cool. I can't do that, I suck." She said, earning a confused look from the dark elf.

"Pardon, did you say 'suck'? One does not need sucking in order to play a harp—well, that is unless you are in possession of a pipe or flute then I guess you would need to use suction…" He muttered. Mirian stared at him for a second, before letting out a short laugh.

"No, I mean I can't play any instruments." She clarified. The confused elf now grasped the meaning.

"Where you come from, do you use such…odd words to describe certain things?" He further prodded, as it was very curious to him the way this girl spoke. Her accent alone was uniquely different from the common Westron tongue.

"Guess people around here don't really use slang." She mused now. Turning his head slightly, he couldn't help but ask the meaning of 'slang.' He did not understand why Mirian gave him another weird look when he asked this.

"Well, slang is kind of like…like giving an alternate term for a proper word, umm…" She didn't know how to explain it well.

"Might you provide an instance for me?" He tried to assist. Mirian fell silent as she tried to think up an example. Before she could come up with anything, footsteps were heard coming their way; at least the elf heard them.

"There you are!" Breathed a slightly flustered Glorfindel. The elf Lord made way into the gazebo.

"I have been looking high and low for you, little one." He said, earning an annoyed look from Mirian.

"Stop calling me that, I have a name." She grumbled. Glorfindel was slightly taken back by her biting tone, but tried not to let his frustration show as he turned to the elf she was with.

"I hope she did not disturb you, Lindir." He said, while Lindir offered a smile and gave a slight bow of greeting.

"Lord Glorfindel, she was of no trouble to me. We were just carrying on idle conversation." He assured. Nodding, the elf Lord now turned to Mirian.

"I came to find you, because your father wishes to see you." At the mention of her dad, Mirian instantly stood up.

"He's up?" She asked, but before Glorfindel could confirm she dashed off in the direction of the House of Healing. Glorfindel finally sighed in annoyance while Lindir gave a soft chuckle.

"Does it bring you memories, my lord?" He questioned knowingly, while Glorfindel gave him a look of distress.

"Do not remind me…it was difficult enough at the time to keep those two at bay, and now this girl's lack of decorum…" Lindir shook his head looked at his harp.

"You must understand that she must feel quite misplaced among us elves. By the looks of her age? I have heard instances where they are keen to act rebellious towards their elders." Glorfindel looked away as the notion of disrespect itself sent unpleasant vibes throughout his body. He just hoped that he wouldn't be placed as the caretaker for that girl while her father healed. That might just be enough to do him in…

* * *

John looked up when he saw Mirian hurry over to him. Seeing her looking unharmed made his conscious ease up more.

"Dad, are you okay?" Was the first thing she asked when she came up to the bedside. John smiled and nodded at her.

"I'm fine hunny, just feeling a little sore is all." He said. "What about you?" He couldn't help but still ask, just to be sure.

"Fine, they patched me up and all, but dad…" She leaned in closer to his face.

"I don't know about this place. Everyone here is so weird, I mean…they thing they're elves!" She whispered. John raised an eyebrow at her when she said that.

"Elves? No hunny you must've heard it wrong. They're just, just…actors or something." He didn't know how to explain it himself.

"No dad, I'm serious. They _really _think they're elves. They got the pointed ears even, I saw it." She insisted. John was skeptical, although he did notice the pointed ears on the elf healer he first saw when he woke up, and then on Glorfindel…

"Well, whatever they are or whatever they're doing, we still need to be grateful for them helping us out. I don't think they're bad Mirian, if they were they wouldn't have patched up my injuries." He said, but Mirian shook her head.

"But what if they're from a secretly twisted cult where they brainwash people to think they're elves living in a place built like something out a children's book? Seriously dad, I think we should get out of here." John frowned a little. To some degree he kind of agreed with her logic; these people were a little too odd. They all spoke with English accents, save for whenever they talked in that foreign language he still had no clue as to what it was.

"I don't know hunny, I can't really do anything since I can barely walk. We just have to be careful and hope that nothing bad comes out of this, I guess." He wished he could've phrased that with more confidence, but right now he just wanted get going on his healing so they could get out and go back home. Mirian sighed in defeat as she sat down on the edge.

"God, what am I gonna do in this place?" She asked no one in particular. John felt her frustration, and gently placed a hand on her arm.

"Everything will be fine, Mirian." He said, trying to ease the girl's mind. She looked at him, at first uncertain, but eventually accepting.

"Okay...guess we just have to play along until you're better again." She muttered. John smiled when this was said.

"I promise the minute I feel fit enough, we'll get out of here and find our way home." John said, and this time he hoped he could keep his word.

* * *

**Here is chapter 2! I hope you liked it. I was initially going to incorporate some elvish in there, but I couldn't find any good fit translations that could work with the phrase, so I just opted to have it said in English.  
**

**Please keep reviewing so I know if I'm doing well with this, thanks! x  
**


	3. Patience

**Reviewers:**

**mandiecandie: Thanks! Yeah I'm trying to steer away from the usual 'I love elves! They're my friends!' kind of vibe, at least this early on in the plot. **

**annafan: Thank you, and yeah I'm trying to keep it as realistic as I can, because I know there's a lot of fanfics out there that make the OCs instantly like all the LOTR characters and get along with them right from the start (though not all of them are bad, there are some really good ones out there) and I just didn't want to do a wishy-washy thing like that for this one. I'm glad you're liking it!**

**EvilBunny91: For this story I'm mostly focusing on relationships, mainly between Mirian and her dad, and with those they interact. There will be some hints of romantic interest here and there, but that won't be the main subject. Also, I should explain that this story takes place a few decades before the formation of the Fellowship, but after all the events in The Hobbit. So I'm not sure about them meeting the fellowship, but who knows what'll happen along the way. Although, I probably won't do the '10****th****-11****th**** walker' if it comes to that point. I still hope it'll be an enjoyable read for you!**

_******Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**_

* * *

Patience is a virtue, some say. If you wait long enough, things might start looking up for you…but that was not for Mirian. Her patience was thin, and her time precious. They have been in Rivendell for two days now and she was getting sick of it.

"Dad, aren't you better yet?" She asked when she went to visit John at the House of Healing. She's been going in and out of there nearly every 20 minutes asking the same question every time she stepped in. John sighed, his own patience already wearing out a little from her constant prodding on it.

"No Mirian, for the hundredth time, I'm not better yet." The girl gave a long sigh as she walked out again without saying another word. John rubbed his temples. He knew she was getting more frustrated with each passing hour, but what could he do? He was bedridden, could barely take enough steps to reach the door without feeling some kind of soreness and ache that just begged him to get right back into bed.

The healing elves have been coming and going, checking how his healing was progressing. They would often give his leg and arm some kind of therapeutic massage while they chanted in their weird language. At first he was very uncomfortable with it, but when his aches would slowly ease after they were done he just got used to it. Still, he was getting a little restless himself, and just like Mirian he wanted nothing more than to just go back home.

He started to think about his job. He hadn't called in to tell them he had to take a temporary leave of absence, because his damn phone wasn't working anymore. He once tried to ask one of the healing elves if he could borrow their phone, but they looked at him as if he had just spoken piglatin out of nowhere.

'Would it kill them to stop this whole gaming for one second? Can't they see this is serious?' He wanted to voice that, he really did, but John just didn't have it in him right now. He also didn't think it was fair to just lash out on them when they were helping him, even if their way of doing it was a little on the unconventional side in his opinion.

His eyes stared out the infirmary's balcony, as he did many times in the past two days he's been stuck in that place. The most embarrassing part of it all was whenever he had to use the bathroom…he just opted not to drink too much of anything they gave him. Other than that, the place was exceptionally soothing to the soul. There was a small mingling peace in the middle of the turmoil he felt. Even with all the doubts he and Mirian had, he couldn't help but sense that that place wasn't all that they were making out to be. Trusting your instincts (also referred to as gut feeling) over reason was often a hard task for John, because he always tried to side with logic in almost everything. Instinct was something he barely relied on to get things done, and maybe that might be the reason why he hadn't gotten that promotion yet…

"How are you feeling today, my friend?" Asked Glorfindel as he now entered the infirmary and approached John's bed.

"Well, I'm not getting any worse." He joked, earning a smile from the elf Lord.

"That is most welcoming news. It won't be long before you can properly stroll about." He said encouragingly. John nodded, really hoping that to be true; he hoped even more that that day would come fast. He noticed that Glorfindel seemed to glance to the entrance door for a moment, before turning back to him.

"If I may ask…is there any sensible reason as to why Lady Mirian seems so…cross, with every passing moment?" John blinked, trying to process what exactly he asked him.

"Oh, her attitude? Well, she's just missing home you know. All that's happened…it's just a lot to take in. Mirian's probably missing her friends at school, her gymnastics…" John trailed off. Mirian loved her gymnastics. That seemed like the only thing that still gave the girl joy. John looked down at the sheets as it brought back the fact that he had missed two of her performances, something that just made him feel god awful about it…

Glorfindel was in the dark as to what 'school' or 'gymnastics' meant, but he did understand the part about missing her friends. Friendship was something elves greatly cherished, and to be apart from them for a certain period of time could bring about sadness and yearning to see them again. He had no doubt that this sentiment was shared among the race of men. Perhaps her lashing out was just a way to cope with their given situation, until they were able to go back to where they belonged…wherever that was.

'I suppose I have misjudged her a little.' He thought, feeling a tinge foolish before giving John a curt nod as he excused himself to tend to his other duties. Once Glorfindel left, John sat up from the bed and slowly turned his body to the side, placing his feet on the ground. He was going to attempt walking again; maybe this time he could stand for a longer period of time. He looked up at the balcony, then back down at his feet. His hands rubbed over the length of his legs as if massage-prepping it for the workout to come.

'Alright, I can do this.' He thought, taking a deep breath. He now pressed his hands onto the thin mattress of the bed for support as he began to pull himself up. He adjusted his balance to stand up straight or as straight as he could with the limp he had on his bad leg. Very gradually, he stared to awkwardly make his way towards the balcony. He took four steps before stopping for a second, already feeling a muscle react a little to it. He closed his eyes with a small frown, and then shrugged it off before taking a few more steps. He got halfway to the balcony before the discomfort started to kick in more. Cursing under his breath he looked back at the bed, trying to think on whether to just go for it all or give up.

'I'm only half way there.' He mentally coaxed himself, looking back at the balcony and the beautiful outdoors further ahead. He took one more step, but that step was all it took to drain his courage as he now risked speed walking back to the bed. He slumped down on it with a heavy sigh of relief once his feet were off the ground. So much for that. He stretched his legs and just stared up the ceiling, feeling pathetic. It was unfair.

'Where the hell are those endorphins when you need them? I just want this damn leg to work again…' He thought in exasperation. At least his left arm was healing at a faster pace, something he was happy about. He wasn't quite sure if being treated in a place like that was what was causing this slow healing process on his leg. He figured that, had he gotten to a hospital instead, that they might've released him the next day with a cast on or something. That seemed like a much better idea than just lying around in bed all day and getting periodic 'treatments' from these people.

'Just keep calm John, keep calm and be patient. We'll be out of here before we know it.' He nodded to himself, resolving to stick to one step at a time now.

* * *

Mirian was pacing back and forth in the hall that led up to the room she was staying in. She knew it was stupid, going off to check on her father so much and asking the same question, only to get the same answer over and over again. But she was just so ready to be out of that place, she couldn't help herself. Sure, the place was beautiful and all, and the people were polite and nice (or at least they acted like it), but she couldn't wait to get the hell out of there and back to her home, back to her normal life. Two days was already too much for Mirian; no one carried a cell phone around with them in that place and that alone was the most absurd thing she's ever heard.

'Bunch of technophobes, that's what they are.' She thought, finally leaning back against the marble wall and sliding down to the sit on the floor. She felt awkward among all these strangers, even if some of them did end up saving her and John. It's not like she wasn't ungrateful, she had thanked Glorfindel. To her that seemed good enough. Now? She was worried about the load of homework she'd get from school once she got back, since there was no way to call and tell them of the situation.

'Right, as if they'd believe the story about how we got attacked by things called 'orcs' and got rescued by elf wannabes.' She thought with a roll of her eyes. She kept wondering why she had to go through that, what was the deal with it? First her parents get divorced, then her mom dies, and now this?

'I miss Kevin and Reilly…I miss gymnastics practice.' Mirian sighed, her eyes downcast as the unhappy feeling settled in for a moment. She couldn't even talk to her own friends about all this, and that just made things seem ten times harder to deal with. She couldn't talk to her dad about how she felt, she just wasn't comfortable enough opening up to him. Mirian thought that like most dads John would try to come up with some kind of sympathy speech and try to comfort her, like he's done many times already, but that was just something she didn't need right now. She needed to vent out like she usually did with her friends, something she just couldn't do with her dad. Talking about it with him would only just fill her up with more stress that she really had no need for right now.

"Kills me that they don't even have a Starbucks around here…I can't even wallow up in my misery the right way – I mean, what kind of place _doesn't_ have a Starbucks nearby nowadays?" She proclaimed with a huff. Mirian sat in the hall for a few more minutes before getting up and heading outside, but unlike all the other times that day she didn't head off to the House of Healing. Instead she headed off to the gazebo where she first met Lindir, playing his harp.

* * *

Arwen Undomiel stared at her fair reflection of the river that ran just behind one of Rivendell's white gazebos, her pale grey eyes shimmering in the light being reflected from the sun and onto the waters. A soft sigh escaped her as her mind could not conjure anything other than the image of the young man whom she had met not long ago. He was from the race of men, but not just any kind of men.

He was a descendant of the Dúnedain. She had heard from her father how he was called 'Estel' until recently, when he came of age and Elrond revealed to him his true identity. She had only seen him a few times, but after those few times she found him often lingering in her mind. It was strange, she had no special interest in him and yet, something…something just wouldn't settle, and it bothered Arwen that she could not place a finger on what that 'something' was…

Her eyes pried away from her visage when her sensitive hearing caught the sound of footsteps coming up to the gazebo. She couldn't see the owner of the steps, for she was crouching on the ground, but after hearing a soft sigh of what appeared to be from a female she stood up. She could now see the figure of a young girl inside, sitting on the bench. Arwen was curious, for she had yet to see this one around Rivendell. Cautiously, she walked away from the river, coming around the structure. It didn't seem like the girl had noticed her presence, but Arwen saw the expression on her face, one of contemplation and unrest.

The striking elleth made light steps towards the front of the gazebo now, her curiosity being much too great to withhold. As she came upon the steps leading to the low platform, the girl finally looked up. She seemed slightly startled at first when she set her eyes on her, a look of confusion followed by wonder, and then disinterest. Arwen refrained from raising a brow at this range of emotions, before giving a tentative smile.

"Good day." She greeted politely. The girl seemed uncertain on how to respond at first, before giving a small nod.

"Hi yourself." It was a strange way of greeting for the elf maiden, but she trusted it was meant well. Arwen's eyes wandered over the structure, and then to their general surrounding. Various plant-life breathed all around them under the blue heavens. She faked a pensive state of admiration for it.

"Ever is the sight of clear sky so calming, but I fear not even they may bring peace to your troubling mind." She said, staring back at her. The girl didn't seem to take to her statement, so Arwen tried a different approach.

"May I ask for your name?" She softly inquired. Arwen was met with a look of uncertainty at first, before she finally answered.

"I'm Mirian." Her voice, although sounding bold, still held a bit of fragility that the maiden had instantly recognized. Arwen smiled again and gave a slight bow of her head.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Mirian, my name is Arwen." Mirian nodded and seemed to disengage again, thinking that Arwen might go away quicker if she did. This mortal girl's demeanor was curious to the daughter of Elrond. She didn't seem to compel herself in being more proper. Despite her evident lack of manners, Arwen boldly walked up the steps and sat next to her.

Mirian stared at the elf-maiden as if she was one of those prep girls from the show 'Gossip Girl', sitting wherever they liked because they thought they were better than everyone else. Before she could say anything, Arwen spoke once again.

"I apologize if I am intruding in your moment of solitude. I cannot help but be curious as to why such a beautiful young girl would have so much worry in her early life." At the mention of the word 'beautiful' Mirian instantly flushed a little, before her eyes looked away, murmuring something along the lines of 'look who's talking, miss hotness.' The murmuring was quite obviously heard by Arwen, however she didn't exactly know what she meant by that, and chose to ignore it while she remained in wait for a satisfactory answer from Mirian. Noticing that she wasn't relenting, Mirian heaved a sigh and stared ahead.

"I'm just sick and tired of waiting around to go home." When she said that, both brows were now raised.

"You are waiting to go home? What are you waiting for?" She pried further.

"I have to wait until my dad gets better." Mirian answered, her legs taken to lightly swinging back and forth now. The motion was noticed by Arwen, and she smiled slightly as she remembered doing the same thing as a child.

"So this 'dad,' I would assume to be your father?" Arwen paused, resuming her talk once Mirian confirmed. "Is he feeling ill? Is that why you must wait?"

"He's not sick or anything, he just hurt his arm and leg pretty bad when we got attacked in the woods." When she said 'attacked' Arwen became a little alarmed.

"Who attacked you?" Thought she already had a few assumptions.

"Some super ugly orcs or something." It was what she had feared. Orcs have never been as close to Rivendell as in recent years. Though there had not been many sightings, there were the occasional encounters with the elves scouting the borders.

"I am deeply sorry that you and your father had the misfortune of facing them, though my heart is at ease to know that you have both survived." Mirian finally gave her one of those weird looks she had given other elves like Glorfindel and Lindir.

"Why do you people always talk like you care so much? You don't even know us." This time her posing question did seem to make Arwen feel openly dumfounded.

"I would never wish harm to any innocent soul. Orcs are vile creatures, and had you not been killed you could have been victim to their horrible tortures." The thought alone brought painful memories to the elf-maiden. Her mother, Celebrian, had been subjugated to their cruel torments. It was with great luck that her elder brothers were able to rescue her in time, but the terrifying experience was enough to make her mother sail off to Valinor, and Arwen still harbored a heavy heart from it.

Mirian seemed to have enough common sense to see that Arwen was now in a state of heartache, and because of that she didn't talk smack and just stayed quiet. After that brief moment of weakness, Arwen looked at Mirian.

"I know not what has caused you to mistrust people's goodwill, but I do want you to know that I am not your enemy…I am a friend." She wanted to make a small breakthrough with Mirian, if only to reach peaceful waters with the girl.

Mirian stared at her, but she didn't seem to look bold or suspicious now.

"A friend…I guess I could use one while I'm still stuck here." She said, with a careless shrug. Arwen felt a rush of relief enter her at those words, and she graciously placed a hand onto Mirian's shoulder, smiling once again.

"And a friend I shall be."

* * *

John had dozed off for about an hour, before waking up to the sound of feet walking around the infirmary. Eyes slowly opening, he turned his head ever so slightly to the person who was doing all the shuffling. It wasn't someone he's seen before, no. An elf woman with long auburn air, having a single small braid to the side paced about like she was looking for something. While she was preoccupied with trying to find whatever she came for, John was briefly caught by surprise by how attractive she was. Blinking a couple of times to get out of his daze, he cleared up his throat to get her attention.

"Are you looking for something?" He asked. The maiden paused and turned to him, not sure how to respond at first, before recomposing herself.

"Forgive me if I have disturbed you, but might you know where the healers keep their lavender stash?" Her soft-sounding voice inquired. John thought about it for a moment. Lavender?

"Uh, well…" His eyes quickly scanned the room, before they locked onto one tall-looking storage cabinet that he often saw healers go to.

"Try over there." He said, pointing at it. The maiden looked in the direction, her eyes lighting with hope before walking over and opening the door. She scanned the contents for a brief moment, before shaking her head and shutting the doors with a small sigh.

"I do not see it in here." John was stumped. Where would they keep lavender around? He couldn't remember ever seeing any healers handling it since he took residence there.

"Well, maybe if you wait around someone might show up and they can help you out. I would search with you, but…" He looked at his leg, feeling quite useless, and stupid for getting her hopes up. The elf-maiden smiled nonetheless, appreciating his effort.

"I kindly thank you for trying to aid me." She bowed her head a little. John's face flushed slightly, and he awkwardly smiled back. After a short while of waiting a healer finally came in, and the auburn maiden made the request in their native tongue. The healer easily located some of the lavender and handed it to her. The elf woman gratefully took it, giving a short bow of her head to him, her eyes then returning to John and once again offered a bow and a smile before she left.

He sighed and laid his head back. Though he didn't feel great about not being helpful, he was glad she was so nice about it.

'If there's one thing I can say about these people, is that they're very friendly. If it was Martha from work?' He shook his head at the thought of his blonde co-worker, a middle-aged woman, single with no kids, always ungrateful and snapping at everyone but their boss who she did major sucking-up to.

Turning over on his side, he started to wonder what Mirian was doing. He hoped she wasn't giving anyone a hard time as the last thing he wanted was to be called out on for her misbehavior. No matter how strange a place they were in, he held high regards for courtesy. If they showed respect, they should reciprocate it. It was common sense, but knowing Mirian…

'I need to do something about her attitude, one day it could land her up in some big trouble with the wrong crowd.' Taking a deep breath, John closed his eyes, feeling the need to sleep off some more before the healers came around for another checkup.

* * *

"Glorfindel my friend, you seem to be troubled as of late." Said a curious Erestor, looking to the golden-haired elf sitting across from him, a pensive look on his face. The Lord looked over to him, before shaking his head.

"It is nothing Erestor, just…these strange newcomers, not so much the man but the girl. Have you met her? One of the boldest, most petulant child, she is. I could near easily place her among Elladan and Elrohir in their early ages." There was a hint of mirth in Erestor's eyes at the mention of that. He knew it well that the twins were notorious for causing chaos when they were younger, and they always loved the challenges Glorfindel seemed to unknowingly provide for them.

"Yes, I have heard about her direct approach with most. Perhaps it is just her way of handling all that has happened. Escaping an orc attack may create a lasting impression on their victims, and for those of the race of men? Who knows what effects it could have…?" The elf Lord took in those words, and though they did make some sense he still couldn't get over how Mirian continued to show forms of disrespect. Although they weren't constant, whenever she did give attitude it was always very well done. There was just no excuse for that.

"I suppose I must be overreacting. Has Lord Elrond spoken to you about what might be done once the father has fully healed?" It was Erestor's turn to shake his head.

"Lord Elrond does not wish to take any action until he finds them fit enough to meet with him and have a proper conversation. I'm sure that in due time we will learn the full extent of their account." He assured. Glorfindel seemed eager to get all the facts straightened down, so that they could send these strange mortals on their way home, which he knew was what they wanted. Mirian expressed it outwardly, but John was less obvious and more composed about the whole ordeal.

Elves were well known for being extremely patient, that with being immortals and seemingly having all the time of the world to wait for things to happen. But Glorfindel was slightly lacking on that part, at least compared to Erestor and Elrond. He just barely had enough patience to survive the years with Elladan and Elrohir, and now this pair, a mortal father and daughter; suddenly lost in the woods only to be rescued by him and his scouting party, and she goes moping about and sending negative vibes sporadically. It was nearly impossible for any of the elves not to sense it.

'Patience, Glorfindel. As Erestor has said, in due time we will know all there is to know.' He thought, trying to put his mind at ease as he now bid his friend goodbye. Perhaps some training might provide enough of a distraction to him.

* * *

Later that night, Mirian went back to the House of Healing to check on John, but when she asked if he was feeling any better, she didn't carry any edge to her tone. John was almost taken back by it.

"Well, I tried to walk again earlier today, but I couldn't even make it to the balcony…" He honestly said, keeping his eyes on her to gauge her reaction. There was still a hint of apprehension present in her eyes, but it looked like it was a lot less this time around.

"Oh well…" Was all she came up with, before changing the subject. "What's for dinner?"

"I don't know yet, but I think I smell chicken or pork." John said, even giving out a tentative sniff of the air.

"I could go for some meat tonight…but I swear if they give me cheese again..." Mirian grumbled, and he couldn't help but give a short laugh at that. Mirian never really liked cheese, at least not since she saw a documentary when she was 9-years-old on the different types of cheese they sold in France. The moldy one was what grossed her out, and from that point on she vowed not to eat a single slice of cheese…with pizza as the exception.

"You could always just leave it to the side hunny, I'm sure they'll take the hint soon enough." He said, and almost as if on cue, a few elves entered the infirmary carrying a filling spread of food for him. As soon as they left Mirian stared down at the selection, and then her eyes caught sight of the dreaded slices of cheese, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Crossing her arms, Mirian puffed her cheeks before letting out a long breath.

"I think I'll just give it to them straight." She decided. That notion alone somewhat bothered him.

"Mirian, if you end up doing that just…please don't make a big deal out of it, okay? Be polite to those that give you food." She didn't say anything as she now got up and left the infirmary, headed for her own room. With a sigh of forfeit, John shook his head and got started on the meal. He could only hope for the best…

* * *

**That's it for Chapter 3! I thought it would be nice to have Arwen be the one to give that starting closure with Mirian while she's trying to deal with the situation. ****As always, please review and let me know what you guys thought. **Hope you enjoyed it! x  



	4. As Things Were

**Things to keep in mind: I'm a little ashamed to say that I haven't read any of the LOTR books (although I did read The Hobbit…a few years ago), or the other works of Tolkien (yet). **

**I've only relied on the internet so far, such as the LOTR wikia, to dig out some more detailed information about certain things, so I'm writing this story mostly from the knowledge I learned there and from the movies. I do have the LOTR books and I'm going to try and hopefully get through them over the summer; I also have the book collection from 'The Histories of Middle-Earth' and "The Silmarillion' at hand to look over, but since I'm a pretty slow reader and the latter book is especially hard to follow (at least for me) I don't know if I'll be as knowledgeable about everything related to Middle Earth to be able to incorporate some things into it before the story ends, without feeling that I'm messing up somewhere...even so I hope this doesn't discourage anyone from continuing to read the story.**

**Reviewers: **

**mandiecandie: I actually had to look up a short bio on Finwe to understand what you were talking about, haha. But yeah I'm sure the elves will be a little taken back by the thought of someone divorcing/separating from their partner. I actually learned about LARPing from a CW TV show called Supernatural, not sure if you've heard of it? I thought the term was a good fit!**

**EvilBunny91: I don't want to give anything away (mainly because I'm still working on the plotline), but what I can tell you is that there will definitely be some Gandalf involved in later chapters.**

_**Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**_

* * *

"This will be of use to you, my friend." Said one of the elf healers as they gave John a wooden-carved cane…well, it was more so a long stick than a cane really. It has been four days now since John and Mirian were rescued from the Orcs and taken into Rivendell for shelter and healing. John was making greater progress in walking than he was two days ago; he could go on for a longer period of time, about 15 minutes or so without being overly bothered by the soreness he felt on his leg. In comparison, his left arm was almost nearly healed, there just being a light numbness to it.

The healers still treated to both limbs as they have been, with massaging and chanting. After a while of it John actually didn't seem to mind it that much, choosing to focus on the chanting that he had no clue as to what the words meant. Hearing the soft-toned voices of the healers, however, gave him somewhat of a soothing sensation, that quite often led him to fall asleep. Now, John was seen fit enough to leave the infirmary and have better comforts in one of their lodgings, as Mirian did. He was still promised the occasional visit from one of the healers so they could continue with the therapy.

John held onto the stick with both hands as he stood himself up. He smiled a bit, as things really seemed to be looking up now. It wouldn't be long before he was well enough to go back home with Mirian.

"I will lead you to where you will be staying for the remainder of your healing." The healer said, before giving a gesture of his hands for John to walk a little ahead. With the help of the stick, John made progressing steps to exit through the entrance door while the healer patiently walked alongside him. It took a few minutes to get across the long hallway leading to the outside. When they reached outside he took in a deep breath, the freshest air he's ever inhaled. Seeing nature so up close made John feel a little more alive, despite the fact he didn't really take to the thought of 'being one with nature' altogether, especially after the trouble said nature in the form of the woods had brought to him and Mirian…

"The lodging is not far." The elf healer assured him when they saw that John had suddenly stopped. Shaking out of his stupor, John gave an awkward smile and nodded before continuing on. As they walked, John realized something…

"I don't think I ever got your name, did I?" He questioned. This particular healer was the one usually in charge of giving him the massage therapy sessions. Having had more interaction with John than others, the healer seemed a little more accustomed to his way of talking.

"I do not believe that you have. I am called Finglas." It was the strangest name he's heard so far. He tried to sound it out in his mind, not wanting to mess it up in case he needed to call him out. But how in the world did they come up with those types of names? Shaking his head, John decided not to ask as to not be rude.

"I'm John Howard." He introduced now, knowing he hadn't told him his own name. Finglas offered a light smile before they finally reached another part of the household, making way into another long hallway before stopping in front of a door.

"From here on you will be staying in this room. Your daughter is residing just three doors down this hall." The elf said, motioning his head in the direction of it. John was relieved to know he was now close to Mirian, that way he didn't have to keep worrying about what she was doing, as he often did while he stayed in the House of Healing.

"Thank you, Finglas, I really appreciate it." He sincerely said. Finglas smiled again and nodded, before opening the door and letting John enter the room. John's reaction to the layout was the same as Mirian's when she was first brought to her room. All the furniture was delicately carved out of polished wood, with graceful designs and symbols at certain areas which gave that touch of elegance to the overall look of the space. He had to praise whoever did the carpentry on it. Sighting the bed, he almost instantly walked over to it to take a seat. The padding of the mattress was a little more comfortable than that from the infirmary, softer to the touch. Finglas watched as the man took another once-over of the room, before turning back to him.

"I've been meaning to ask someone, who owns this place?" John questioned, being quite curious about the proprietor of this whole set-up; whoever it was he thought for sure that they were loaded.

"Lord Elrond is the one who oversees Rivendell." Finglas stated as he made way over to John to inspect his recovering limb after that walk.

"Huh…do I get to meet him sometime? Since it's his place and all, I figured I should at least thank him for letting us stay here." He said, watching when Finglas knelt before him and began to examine his leg.

"I am sure that Lord Elrond wishes to meet you as well, and I am most certain that will happen fairly soon." He said, lightly circling his thumb over the muscle just below the knee.

"Right now the Lord has been kept occupied with matters of safety. After your attack from the Orcs he has been quite concerned about Rivendell's security." John nodded, completely understanding the circumstances. If it was his property he wouldn't want something like that to go overlooked; that would just be bad for business.

'Even if they're all taking this game a little too seriously, I don't think they're crazy enough to risk not looking into it.' By then John felt that he had come up with a sound logic; that those 'Orcs' were actually just ordinary people, but psychotic at that who probably got a lot of plastic surgery to literally reflect their craziness. It sounded ridiculous at first, but you never knew what some people were capable of nowadays.

Once Finglas was satisfied with his examination, he stood back up. "It is close to midday, a few elves will bring food to you shortly." He said, before taking leave of the room. Once Finglas left, John lied down on the bed and wondered about certain things, mainly Mirian and how she was getting along with others. So far he hadn't gotten any complaints, so that was a good sign.

'Then again I think they're too polite to tell me upfront.' He thought, closing his eyes for a moment. Even if they didn't tell him, he would make sure to ask about it next time.

* * *

"And then he got shot down by two arrows." Said Mirian, giving Arwen a brief account of what went on in the woods. The elf-maiden listened without interrupting, though she did try not to show the discomfort she felt at some of the details Mirian chose to disclose about the Orcs, more specifically how one had been feasting on the arm of a fallen elf.

She remembered hearing some elves singing a lament a few nights ago, and she could only hope that the soul of Thandir would find his rest in the Halls of Mandos. She hadn't known him on a personal level, but she did know that he was a kind and brave elf, having served as one of the many guards of Rivendell for many years.

"I'm pretty sure it was Glor who shot him down, since he came up to me right after." What she said now caused Arwen to raise a brow. Glor?

"Do you mean to say Glorfindel?" She asked to be sure, for it did sound like the start of his name.

"Well yeah, but I don't like saying the whole thing." That notion somewhat amused the elf-maiden. She did detect a little bit of contempt behind her tone of voice, however. Did Mirian harbor any hard feelings for the Elf Lord? Mirian looked at Arwen, and the look on the woman's face was kind of a dead give away to her knowing there was something going on between her and her golden-haired savior.

"I know he saved me and all, but he's just so…I don't know I just don't like how he talks to me, like I'm some little girl – I'm fifteen for Christ's sake!" Whenever adults treated Mirian like a kid it just served to set her off. In her teens, she felt like they looked at her as if she wasn't 'mature' enough to be counted among their level of intelligence, like she needed to be talked down to in a way because she wasn't old enough to 'understand life' or whatever other excuse they used.

Arwen stared at the girl, trying her best to follow her logic and comprehend her feelings. To a certain extent the maiden did feel her despair; being the youngest of Elrond's three children she at times felt left out of things in the first years of her life, because her brothers were old enough to head off and do things she couldn't do, such as leaving the borders of Rivendell to scout with Glorfindel, or venturing to the Ford of Bruinen. Whenever she expressed her disdain to her parents, they would always smile and say that it was for her wellbeing. Oh, how she hated hearing that…

"I see…but I do not think Glorfindel meant to upset you at any given time. He has many years in his life, and therefore may at times speak as an elder." She told her, and Mirian raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yeah right, how old is he like twenty-one or something?" She sneered. Arwen lowered her eyes and shook her head; seemed like she didn't know about the immortality of elves.

"Glorfindel is many thousand years of age." She said, earning an instant look of disbelief from Mirian, before she shrugged it off.

"Whatever you say."

The past two days that she has known the girl Arwen has learned that she was quite the bold one, even more so than she was as a child. However, the beautiful elf still tried to looked past her lack of disrespect and occasional biting tone, for she had given Mirian her word that she was going to be her friend. Arwen only just began to succeed in drawing out some of the girl's troubles from her mind, but she still had a good way to go before she could gain enough trust that Mirian would voluntarily open up to her. She felt that there were deeper feelings still locked away in the youth's heart, but it wasn't her place to freely question her about it.

* * *

Strolling about the walkways of Rivendell, Glorfindel carried on a light conversation with Lindir. They had been discussing the measurements being taken in order to better secure the borders of Rivendell. Though there had been no more Orc sightings, it was still best to play it safe than risk another unfortunate encounter with them.

"Lord Elrond has taken personal care on the matter. I am certain that our defenses have been adequately increased." Lindir said now, and Glorfindel gave a small nod of his head, pleased.

"I do not think it likely that Orcs will be venturing near the city boundaries for quite some time." He spoke with confidence. He trusted that, as Lindir had said, the security measures around Rivendell have been appropriately raised to satisfaction, and his heart felt a little more at ease to know that.

"Yes, and with the grace of the Valar there will not be any other similar incidences similar to that of the two mortals now residing here." At the mention of that Glorfindel stiffened a little. He was still having a hard time dealing with Mirian whenever the two crossed each other's path. It was as if at the mere sight of him her features would harden. His wasn't that far off from producing a similar look.

"You are still having troubles with Lady Mirian, I take." Lindir's question brought Glorfindel's eyes to stare at him, almost as if taken back by the allegation.

"I do not know what to make of her. She has had no sense of decency when speaking to me, since the following day of that which we all arrived." The elf Lord was getting more and more aggravated about that. Out of all the elves in Rivendell, he felt as if he was the main target of her rudeness. He didn't even try to make amends with her, for in no way had he been out of line with the girl, not ever. So why should he be the one to make peace?

Lindir looked ahead. He had not come across Mirian since their first meet at the gazebo, but he did hear things from others about her. Though elves were not known for gossip, this girl seemed to yield enough attention to be brought up among their kind a few times. He knew of her ill-mannered attitude, just as Glorfindel and a few others have already openly expressed to him. But even if she was the way was she was, he did not feel it right to criticize her when he and the rest barely knew the girl or where she came from. When Mirian had first stumbled upon him playing the harp, his sensibility for making melodious tunes made him sense deep wounds she harbored within her.

As they came upon a section of the gardens, his eyes caught sight of Lady Arwen, and to his and Glorfindel's surprise she was with Mirian.

"Oh Valar, I do hope Lady Arwen has not been subject to her bitterness…" He heard the elf Lord sight to himself.

"I do not think it so, as they only appear to be conversing with one another…" He turned his head to look at him now, a faint smile resting upon his face. "And perhaps it is a good thing that they do interact. Lady Arwen might be just the thing the girl needs."

"What do you mean, Lindir?" Glorfindel asked, looking at the elf with puzzling eyes.

"Well, treat it as her possibly instilling some form of influence on the youth, it could very well subdue Lady Mirian's 'bitterness', as you put it." When he said that, it made the elf Lord wonder if it could actually work. Arwen was a wise elleth, being the daughter of Elrond it was no surprise to anyone. But more than that, she was extremely insightful of other people's feelings. Glorfindel gave another small sigh as he stared at the two, before he and Lindir continued on.

* * *

As the sun began to set, and the hours of the day rolled on, John decided it was high time for him to take another walk around. He had a filling meal earlier that day in the new room, and until now he's been resting well into the start of evening. As much as he liked the fact that he could be that lazy, after a while he would feel the need to move around. Staying still for long periods of time never was his thing; whether it was sitting on the couch or sitting in his office at work, every once in a while he would have to get up and take a short walk, to stretch out his legs and let his mind clear out for a minute.

Now that he was not as bedridden as before, he felt he should take advantage of being able to go to certain places whenever her felt he could. With the help of the stick, John pulled himself to a stand and made a leisure pace up to the wardrobe that lay to the side of the bed. Opening the doors he saw a spread of old-fashioned vests and tunics, along with some pants and boots. He looked down at what he wore now, a simple cream tunic and brown pants; several pairs have been given to him ever since coming to Rivendell. Although he thought them to be costumes, the selection in the wardrobe looked a little better to him. He chose a light brown tunic with a dark green vest, dark brown pants, and black boots, taking his time to change before looking himself in the vanity mirror.

'Not my taste, but it'll have to work.' He walked over to the door and turned the knob, pulling it open before walking out. Out in the hall John looked left and right as he closed the door behind him. He couldn't help but feel more at ease when he didn't see or hear any of the elves coming, preferring to start off without coming across any of them. Being careful with his footing, he made his way down and to Mirian's room first. He stopped and knocked on it. Three times he did this before deciding to open the door, only to find the room empty.

'She must be out, I guess.' He thought, before closing the door again and resuming his walk. It took a little while, but once he made it to the outdoors he felt good about his leg not giving him any trouble yet. He even risked a little more by taking a walk around the outside of the household. He hadn't really looked at the city that much, since his mind was either too busy worrying about his injuries or how Mirian was doing.

'It's a little weird that she hasn't been complaining all that much lately.' It was something that made him curious, because before she was nothing short of impatient and snappy about getting back home. But after four days of being there, she didn't seem to make as much of a hassle about it. It made him wonder if something happened to make her more tolerable about having to wait…

He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt a small ache on his leg. Damn, it was too good to be true. Looking around he managed to find a place to sit, on the steps leading up to another extension of the place. It almost seemed like everything was somehow connected; even with the plant-life surrounding each part, everything fit.

He absently twirled the stick in his hands, his legs stretched out as his feet hung slightly above ground level. Four days…it's already been that long and yet, it felt like yesterday when things took a wrong turn for them. His mind kept wondering about it. Had he not insisted on taking Mirian to that Carnival, then maybe they wouldn't be going through all this. He was only trying to make things work between him and his daughter, but even in his sorry excuse of an attempt made things worse…

He sighed heavily, now thinking back to the days when they used to get along, the days when they a family. Mandy was a great mother, he couldn't deny that. She held so much love for Mirian he almost believed he didn't give enough in comparison. As a father, John felt it was his job to be the one to provide for his family, even when Mandy had her own job giving dance lessons at a local parlor. She loved to dance and was great at it; John not so much. At the time when they first started dating, she would always try to convince him to go dancing with her, but he always came up with an excuse not to go. He wasn't confident about it, especially since he knew he would either end up stepping on her toes or embarrassing them both in the end. He was surprised she stayed with him for so long, even more so when she actually accepted his proposal. Save for Mirian's birth that was the happiest moment of his life.

When Mirian turned eleven, that's when their relationship gradually went downhill. He couldn't remember what started it, if it was the lack of quality time he spent with his family, or him temporarily turning to drinking from stress at work. All he knew was that a year later they couldn't take the constant fighting and yelling anymore, and opted for a divorce. Of course, he felt guilty about putting Mirian through it especially since she was only twelve, a very delicate age for some kids. Mandy got custody of her while John was only allowed to visit from time to time. He grunted at the thought of Mandy's lawyer bringing up his small period of drinking; had it not been mentioned in court he was almost sure that he would've had more leeway in his visits. Because of that he's done all he could to stay sober...

But now it was all in the past. Mandy was gone, and all he had left was his daughter. He still remember how he reacted to the news of her death, he could barely even believe it at first. Before he knew it 15-year-old Mirian was dropped off at his doorstep by a child protective services agent, and that was that. What pissed him off the most was the fact that they still felt the need to drop by unannounced for 'checkups,' meaning they would check to make sure he wasn't exercising alcohol abuse and taking out his anger on his own daughter. The thought made him sick. He would never, _ever_ harm Mirian like that; not even during his drinking stage did he do it in front of her. But standard procedure was standard procedure, they said.

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to push away the bad vibes he felt; it wouldn't do him any good. He looked up at the darkening sky, already seeing a few stars shining bright. Whatever happened from here on, he would always and foremost make sure that Mirian was well and safe.

* * *

"I hate cheese." Said a disgruntled Mirian, glaring down at the tray of food given to her by one of the elves. He looked at her as if he didn't know how to respond to that sudden statement.

"Would you rather have it removed from your tray, my lady?" He meekly offered, earning a swift nod from the girl.

"That would help, yeah." With that said, the elf proceeded to gather all slices of cheese so she could enjoy the rest of her meal. When the elf was almost out of the door, Mirian decided to say a small 'thanks' as an afterthought. The elf smiled and bowed his head to her before taking his leave. Sighing, she stared at the spread of food: some vegetables (there were always a ton of that), bread (another thing there was always a ton of), some bits of well-cooked meat, a small portion of fruits, and water. Mirian didn't really mind the healthy choice for a meal, but oh what she wouldn't do for some chocolate right now…

'Do they even have real sweets around here?' She thought, before shaking her head. Probably not. She finally started eating, but only got halfway into it before she didn't feel like taking another bite. Pushing the tray aside Mirian stood up and walked over to the balcony, leaning up against the railing as she stared into the night. Her eyes glanced up at the many stars, before looking back down and rubbing a hand over the other.

This was usually the time of night when she would call, txt, or IM her friends to chat. They would talk about anything and everything, no matter how lame or stupid it was. Kevin and Reilly weren't just any friends though, they were her best friends. They knew each other since 6th grade Middle School. Kevin was the goofy kind of guy who liked video games, but was also into sports a lot. Reilly was a punk-rock girl and had the 'I don't give a damn' attitude, a common trait they had. It was an odd friendship, but one she held on tight to. They were there for her when her parents first got the divorce, and once again when her mother passed away. They didn't try to give her a pep-talk or share words of sympathy; she got enough of that from her dad and relatives. But they listened to her rant and vent out her frustrations. When she felt like everything was well said and done they would take her out to Starbucks, and they would go back to talking and laughing at those lame and stupid things.

She quickly rubbed her eyes as she felt herself close to tearing up. She missed them so much…

'Keep it together, Mirian. It's just a few more days.' She tried to think, but even that thought didn't seem to ease her mind all that much. Well, at least there was Arwen. No matter how crazy she thought the people living in that place were (even Arwen to some extent) she felt that talking to the elf maiden made her feel a little better. If anything she was a good listener, like her friends were.

"Enjoying the night breeze, my lady?" A voice called from the side. Startled, her head snapped to the person. Lindir smiled lightly and gave a bow of his head.

"I apologize if I have frightened you." He said.

"Uh, it's okay." She mumbled, not sure how to react to his sudden appearance. Lindir took it as a sign that he could engage a little further.

"Have you had your supper?" He inquired, receiving a nod in return.

"Yeah, though I had to tell them to take away the cheese…" This amused the dark haired elf.

"Do you not fancy cheese?" He didn't think he met anyone yet who didn't.

"I don't like it, no…expect if it's pizza, then that's okay." She added the last part. He turned his head ever so slightly.

"What is this 'pee-sah' that you speak of?" His pronunciation was a little off, something that almost made Mirian snort.

"It's a type of dough food that has melted cheese on it, but it's so good I don't even care." She knew it was ridiculous trying to explain to a gamer what pizza was, since he probably knew, but at that moment she felt like playing along for the hell of it.

"Hm, it does sound rather interesting and…appetizing." He said, trying to picture what it looked like.

"So what are you doing out here?" Mirian asked this time. The elf turned from his brief reflection to look at her.

"I was just on my way to the study room, for I much require the knowledge of books." He explained, making Mirian raise an eyebrow. By study room, did he mean like a library? He must have.

"Can I come with you?" She asked, suddenly feeling bored and wanting to go somewhere. He wasn't expecting that kind of request from her, but gave a confirming nod.

"Of course you may accompany me to it." He said with another smile. Hearing that, Mirian gripped the railings blocking her way, and easily leaped over to the other side to stand by the elf.

"Let's go." She said, looking to him. He was first taken back by her swift and sudden move, but then outstretched his hand ahead of him and walked in the direction of the study room with her.

* * *

Erestor raised his head when he heard faint voices speaking. One voice in particular he recognized it to be that of Lindir. Being an elf of great wisdom and knowledge much like Elrond, he knew every elf's name residing in Rivendell. But the voice that accompanied Lindir he did not recognize, and he knew why when he saw him enter with a young girl.

'This must be Mirian, the mortal girl Glorfindel fusses about so much.' He thought. However, as he watched Lindir and Mirian enter the study room, he didn't see any signs of ill-temperament that the elf Lord spoke of so much. She was talking to Lindir as he himself would talk to his friend, in a calm and pleasant way. As they approached, Lindir instantly placed his hand to his temple in greeting.

"'_Quel undome__,_ Lord Erestor." Greeted the elf, and Erestor gave a slight bow of his head.

"_Quel undome_, Lindir." He greeted back, before looking to Mirian who just stood there with a look of lost.

"What does that mean?" She asked.

"It means 'good evening' in Sindarin, the language of the elves." Erestor explained.

"Huh, weird…" Mirian mumbled. Lindir gave Erestor a tentative look of apology, but he only smiled as he didn't seem to mind.

"Are you in search of any particular literature, or have you just come to visit?" Asked Elrond's chief counselor.

"Just visiting." Mirian instantly said.

"I, on the other hand, am seeking to find something which may shine light upon the great skills of Daeron and Maglor." They were said to have been the greatest minstrels among all elves. With a nod, Erestor gestured Lindir to follow him to where he could find such books, while Mirian stayed to take a look around. To her it was like a huge antique library, with rows upon rows of shelves with way too many books to count. Sure her public library had just as many, but it didn't look as impressive as this one did.

'They really go all out, don't they?' She mused, before walking over to one of the shelves and randomly taking out a book, opening it. The language she was met with almost made her head hurt.

'What the hell is this? Arabic?' It looked like inscriptions, but to her it was all a bunch of nonsense. Shutting the book, she put it back in its place and tried another one; same thing.

"Do they _actually_ read this crap?" She mumbled, shaking her head and putting the book back. She paused and looked over when hearing footsteps coming into the room. To her great misfortune it turned out to be Glorfindel. The elf Lord himself stopped briefly when he caught sight of her, before seeming to ignore her presence as he carried on to find Erestor. Mirian rolled her eyes and decided to just head out and back to her room.

As she walked back she felt a chilly wind run past her, making her shiver.

'Ugh, winter wind. I hate winter wind.' She thought with a slight grunt, rubbing her arms for warmth. It was November, and pretty soon it was going to start snowing. She didn't mind snow that much, but the freezing wind is what annoyed her. She was so distracted with her own thoughts, that she barely heard someone call out to her.

"_Daro!_"

* * *

**That's it for Chapter 4! I was able to add in a little bit of elvish this time, since they're very simple words. I hope you guys liked it! Please review as always. x  
**

_**Daro: Stop**_


	5. An Accident

**Update: I decided to make this story rated M because this chapter has more foul language, and for future chapters I think it's just safer to keep it this way.**

**Reviewers:**

**mandiecandie: I'm not sure, I think I heard the name somewhere once, maybe on TV or something and when I thought about starting this story it just came to me. And yeah there must be a good amount research that goes into each episode of the show.**

_**Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**_

* * *

'Spiteful child, with her insensible looks again.' Thought a displeased Glorfindel as he walked around the study room. When he came in just a few seconds ago he was not expecting to encounter Mirian in there. Right as she saw him, he noticed the exasperated look she got on her face upon setting eyes on him. It just made the elf Lord's blood boil. This notion was alarming to him for he was usually able to keep enough calm, but this girl…

'I desperately hope that Lady Arwen will make quick progress with her, or I will only be too happy once she is gone.' Finally, Glorfindel saw Erestor along with Lindir and began to approach. He gave them both a slight bow of his head as a greeting, and they reciprocated.

"I trust the patrol was peaceful?" Erestor asked, knowing Glorfindel had been set out to scout the borders a couple hours ago.

"As peaceful as it could be, if you think Elladan and Elrohir's idea of playful teasing to be humorous." He mumbled. While on their patrol, the twins had decided to engage in light banter about Glorfindel's sudden rise of temper. To a degree it was true, he was seen as a little more agitated and short-fused than usual, but that didn't mean he liked hearing about it, especially from those two.

Erestor and Lindir exchanged brief looks before the former spoke again, softly.

"You of all people should know that, though they have gained years of wisdom they still retain some of their youthful days." Glorfindel sighed. He still wished they could be a little more mature when it came to him; over two thousand years and he still seemed to be the popular target of their jokes.

"I prefer some peace and quiet while carrying out my duties, is that really too much to ask?" He rhetorically questioned. Lindir felt compelled to respond to it.

"When it comes to them? I do believe that it is, my lord." Erestor couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, Lindir himself trying not to grin in amusement at Glorfindel's frown. They wouldn't say it directly, but the golden haired Balrog slayer was quite possibly the easiest elf to get a reaction from. It's as if he wore his heart on his sleeve, but only he had not quite realized it yet.

"Perhaps if I speak to Lord Elrond he might –"He was cut midsentence when the neighing of horses followed by a sudden scream sounded through the air. Alarmed, the three elves quickly rushed out of the study room and outside to see what happened. They ran for a while until coming upon the scene of commotion only to find Elladan and Elrohir both dismounted from their horses, trying to calm down a distressed Mirian on the ground.

"What has happened here?" Erestor instantly demanded. The twins looked at them, but before they could say anything…

"They tried to run over me with the goddamn horse, that's what!" Mirian bellowed, looking livid. Glorfindel finally found his voice after being initially caught off guard. He turned to the twins now.

"Is that true?" Elladan had a helpless look on his face.

"We did not mean any harm, believe me. We were just having a small race with the horses. But we briefly lost our attention ahead of us—she seemed to appear from thin air!" He tried to explain.

"We were able to take reins before anything truly happened. Please forgive our incompetence, my lady." Elrohir pleaded, trying to help her to her feet only to have Mirian yank away and stand up herself. She gave the most hateful glare Glorfindel had ever seen her give.

"You crazy assholes, you could've killed me!" She accused, feeling her blood boiling high. Elrohir flinched at how loud she was being, and tried to apologize again and again, but she didn't care.

"You people are insane! Walking around pretending to be elves living in the goddamn dark ages – you're all fucking lunatics!" With a quick turn she stormed off, leaving a group of elves deeply stunned and at a loss for words.

"That…was quite frightening." Lindir quietly muttered after a moment of silence. Erestor then turned sharply to the twins, his brows frowning with disappointment.

"You rascals, have you no better sense? And racing horses in this time of night!" The twins cast their eyes down, feeling truly foolish. Glorfindel brought his hand to rub his temples; this is just what they needed. Now Mirian would most likely go around acting as insufferable as ever.

"Do not think that this will go unheard by Lord Elrond." Erestor assured, before swiftly turning and walking away. Glorfindel in turn gave the twins a hard stare as he now assumed authority.

"Take the horses back to the stables, the consequences of your actions will be dealt with later." He voiced, and the twins obeyed as they took the horses' reins and lead them off to the stables as told. Lindir watched, and then turned to Glorfindel with a look of concern.

"What of Lady Mirian, my lord?" Now that was something he did not want to think about.

"I'm not sure, Lindir. One can only pray that the twins' reckless behavior does not bring about misery to us all in the end."

* * *

Mirian rushed to get to her room, her head close to exploding from how pissed off she was. It all happened so quickly; the shout, the neighing...she had turned startled by the noise, only to see a pair horses speeding fast at her. Frightened, she screamed and leapt back in fear that they would maul her. She ended up falling down on her rear end, a soreness she still felt as she sped walked to her room.

'That's it! I don't want to stay one more second in this place!' Mirian walked down the hall, pushing past her father who was just on his way to his. A surprised John nearly bumped into the wall, holding tight to the walking stick before calling her out.

"Mirian watch –"The teenager slammed the door shut, and he flinched at the sound. What the hell has gotten into her? John grumbled and walked over to her door, instantly issuing a series of knocks on it.

"Mirian, open this door!" He ordered.

"Go away!" He sighed and looked down at the knob, pausing. Of course, there was nothing stopping him from just barging in when there was no lock to be had. He was so used to having Mirian lock it shut back home…

Twisting the knob he pulled it open and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He looked at Mirian who was sitting in bed leaned back, with arms crossed and facing the balcony.

"Mirian, you can't just bump into people like that…" He started off as he slowly made his way over to the bedside. She turned herself away even more as she remained quiet. John sat down on the edge and looked at his daughter, now sensing that there might be something more.

"Hunny, did something happen?" He carefully asked now. It took a minute for her to finally look back at him, her eyes hard and her face looking cross.

"I almost got killed just now by two psychos." She said, now turning and sitting up straight.

"Dad, I wanna go home. _Now_." John shook his head, still trying to process what she just told him.

"Wait, killed? What are you talking about?" He couldn't tell if this was just Mirian's exaggeration or if it was really true. She gave a frustrated huff.

"Remember those other two weirdos from when we got saved in the woods, the twins?" John nodded. "Yeah well, they almost ran over me with their damn horses."

John's eyes widened and he instantly became worried.

"But how – are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" He quickly asked as his eyes looked her over for any sign of injuries.

"No, but that doesn't mean it's okay." Mirian frowned at him. "Dad we need to get out of here quick, these people are nuts."

John sighed and scratched his temple. He first had to get the facts right before he could decide on anything, but he felt that if they stayed much longer there that Mirian might just snap and do something extreme.

"Okay sweetie I'll see what I can do, alright? For now just try to keep calm…" He suggested, trying to sound it out as soothing as he could. Mirian shook her head and now resumed her previous position where she wasn't looking at him, clearly not satisfied with his words. John refrained from sighing as he then stood up and left to give her space. He learned by now that pushing her would only make things worse, so he decided to just let her breathe and wear out her anger for a while.

'Almost run over by horses? I have to check on this…' He didn't want to think it was done on purpose; surely it was accidental? But even if that was the case he didn't feel like they could remain there any longer, waiting on his leg to get better. He had a stick to help him out now, and his walking was really improving so maybe they really didn't have to wait until his leg was fully healed. Just as he was heading off to ask someone if they knew what happened, he came across Glorfindel.

"Oh! It is good that I have found you." He said as he rushed over to John.

"You know, good timing too because I was just about to ask someone what happened to my daughter. Did someone really try to run over her? With horses?" He questioned the golden-haired Lord. Glorfindel's eyes broadened slightly at his statement.

"Of course not! It was a complete accident I assure you. Elladan and Elrohir were racing horses and they did not see her coming up. I am certain that she was not harmed, but that is no excuse for them to go unpunished. I promise you that they will be dealt with for their foolishness." He said, wanting to make peace with the father about Mirian's safety. The last thing he wanted was to leave John having a bad opinion about the elves, as Mirian did.

"So it was an accident then," John breathed in relief. "Still, people around here need to be more careful, she really could've gotten hurt." He couldn't help but say. The elf Lord instantly nodded.

"Yes I completely agree. Do not worry I will make sure that nothing of the sort happens again… how is Lady Mirian?" He hesitated to ask. John glanced behind him in the room's direction, before looking back at Glorfindel with an uncertain look.

"She's…handling it. Well, I won't lie she's pretty upset about it. She wants to go back home and quite honestly, so do I." He looked down at his leg. "I think we've stayed here long enough and it's time to go."

The elf Lord didn't know what to say. He couldn't blame John for wanting to leave with Mirian after getting such alarming news about his daughter almost getting harmed just now.

"I understand your concern, but before you do anything I ask that you first speak with Lord Elrond. It was not a wise idea to delay your meet with him for this long." John raised an eyebrow at him when he mentioned that.

"Lord Elrond? You mean the guy who owns this place?" At that Glorfindel gave a confirming nod.

"Yes, he has been meaning to speak with you and your daughter since we brought you here." Well, John did talk to Finglas about wanting to thank him for the accommodation.

"Do you think I can see him tonight still? I know it's a little late, but I want to get things straightened out as soon as possible." He said. Glorfindel tried not to sigh as he felt believed John might be rushing things a little. Then again he has been waiting for four days now, and he felt for sure that the safety of Rivendell was guaranteed, so Elrond didn't have to make anymore decisions on it.

"Yes, I will go to him right away and ask if he can see you. Please wait until I return with news." Nodding, John then went off to his room while Glorfindel left to find Elrond. He heard John's door shut as he walked in, and for a brief moment paused and glanced back at Mirian's room. Should he try to make amends with her on the twins' behalf? He knew they weren't on good terms, but maybe if he tried…

Glorfindel shook his head and resumed his walk. No. This was their problem and they would have to deal with the result of their actions by themselves.

* * *

Lord Elrond sighed as he sat upon his chair. Erestor had recently come to him with troubling news, and at first he thought that it might be something to do with another Orc attack of some sort. However what he related to him was no such thing, but still just as upsetting. His own sons nearly put at risk the life of the mortal girl that, along with her father, has been residing in his household since being rescued by Glorfindel and his company. He had tried to contain his initial shock from hearing this, but seeing that Elladan and Elrohir's remnant childish mannerisms caused such trouble really made him feel shameful.

'To think that those two would have learned by now to be more careful.' He thought with a light shake of his head. What was he going to do with them now? More importantly, how was he going to face the two guests with this incident now at hand?

Before he could come up with a plan of action, Glorfindel came into the hall and stopped a few feet away from him, bowing. Elrond held his hand so he would be at ease, and the elf Lord straightened his body back up.

"My Lord, I need to speak to you about what happened just a few minutes ago…" He started off, but Elrond already knew what he was going to say.

"I was already notified of my sons' incompetence from Erestor." He calmly said, but Glorfindel could detect a tinge of annoyance in his tone.

"Yes, well…the girl's father wishes to speak with you immediately. He feels that they should no longer remain here." At that, Elrond raised his head with more attention.

"What is this I hear? Is it because of what happened that he wishes to leave?" Glorfindel looked down for a moment, then back up.

"The incident probably did have a large influence in his decision, but I do believe that they have wanted to leave ever since coming here, the girl especially…" He trailed off now as Elrond contemplated on his words.

"Yes, I cannot blame them for feeling the need to leave back to where they belong…has the man's leg healed already?" He inquired now.

"Not fully, but he is making great progress. I have spoken to one of the healers and they said that he may be able to walk without the help of the staff within three days." Glorfindel had taken upon himself to regularly check with the elf healers about John's leg since the 3rd day of their arrival.

"I see…I do not wish to risk his recovery by allowing them to leave earlier than that," He began to rise from his seat now. "Perhaps it is time to meet with him, if at the very least to apologize for my offspring's behavior." With that said Elrond made graceful steps as he walked out of the hall room, followed by Glorfindel.

* * *

John remained in his room as Glorfindel instructed, waiting for the elf to return with an answer from this 'Lord Elrond.'

'What if he says no? Do I wait around? No, I can't just keep on waiting until he's available.' Thought John, his eyes blankly staring up at the ceiling. His stick was resting against the bed's headboard. He wasn't going to deny that he felt a little worried about what might happen now. If worse came to worst they could always try to make a run for it…or secretly sneak out since he couldn't really run. That plan still sounded ridiculous though, he was sure they'd eventually get cornered; it was two against god knows how many of them…

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a few knocks on the door. He sat up in bed and grabbed his stick.

"Come in." A few seconds after he said that the door opened, but the man that first stepped in was unfamiliar to him. His fair but serious expression was a little intimidating at first, but upon offering a light smile when seeing John he relaxed a little. He noticed that the man wore more lavish clothing than most of the people he's seen so far, so he figured that this might be Elrond.

"Good evening John Howard, my name is Elrond." Said the elven Lord. John looked to Glorfindel who had stepped in after Elrond, before looking back at him and standing up with the help of the stick.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." He started off, extending his hand out to shake his. Elrond stared down at the hand for a moment, at first unsure of what to do before carefully extending his own and gripping John's. John gave a light handshake with a small smile and retracted his hand, Elrond imitating him.

"I take that is the way you greet where you come from." He curiously observed, before getting right to the matter.

"I first want to express my deepest apologies for what happened with your daughter. I am afraid that the culprits were my two sons who have caused the chaos, and for that I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive their actions." Elrond gave a bow of his head as a means to further express the sincerity in his words. John couldn't help but be a little taken back by this guy's attitude. He thought that since he was the owner of that entire place, that maybe like most rich people he would have that air of 'I'm well above you' and not be as polite and frank as he was being right now. It was nice.

"It's fine, what matters is that she didn't get hurt." He said now. It _was_ an accident after all; he couldn't just get up and yell at his face for what his two sons did. Besides he could tell already that he was disappointed in them. As a father himself, John also felt at times upset with some choices that Mirian made since coming to live with him, like that one time he caught her smoking weed…

"I am grateful for your mercy." Elrond now said with some relief. "However, it is also to my understanding that you wish to leave with haste?"

"I really think we outstayed our welcome here – it's nothing against you people, honestly. I'm very grateful for all the help you've been giving me with my leg and arm, it's just…" He paused for a moment to sigh; this was a little more difficult than he thought it would be.

Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged looks, before the former engaged once more.

"I understand…you yearn to return home with your daughter." John nodded at that.

"If that is what you truly wish, then I will be more than happy to provide you with a few of my best guards to help you in your travel back. But nigh is the day of your full recovery, and I would be more at ease knowing that you have left fully healed instead." Elrond now declared. John stayed silent as he stared at the two elves after this was said, and then down at his leg.

"I don't know…how much longer do you think?" He asked, just to see.

"The healers have estimated three days." Glorfindel now cut in. Three days…that wasn't all that bad, and he definitely wanted to be in better shape if he and Mirian were going to leave that place. Who knows what could happen along the way anyways. John now looked up at them, his mind seeming to be divided.

"…If we do stay for those three days, can we still get some help from you guys when we set off?" Elrond didn't even have to pause to think on it before he responded.

"Of course, my friend! I will provide you with anything you need for your journey. Is it to my understanding that you will be staying, then?" John bit the inside of his cheek, his mind still conflicted, but he knew he had to give an answer now…

"Yeah, I think just three more days will be okay. I know Mirian will probably throw a fit about it, but she'll come around." He said, with no confidence at all to back it up. Mirian was a fiery being, and he didn't want to even think about what she would say or do when she heard that they were going to stay three more days in Rivendell.

"I could attempt to speak with her; perhaps try to ease her mind a little more about remaining here until then." Elrond offered. Glorfindel came near to wincing when he heard him say that. John seemed to share his feelings.

"She's very…she's very opinionated sir, I don't think that might be a good idea right now. I think she's still trying to get over the shock about what happened. Even when I tried talking to her she wouldn't listen." He frowned. It was near impossible to get through Mirian once she had her bad temper; it was better to wait until she cooled off before trying anything.

"Hm, I see. Then perhaps tomorrow I shall make that attempt, for I do wish to meet this…interesting girl I have been hearing so much about." He had a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes when he said that, but John didn't think he would find it as amusing once he actually got to meet her.

"Well then, I am most pleased with your decision, John. We will leave you to rest now as I'm sure that you require much rest after these arousing events have come to pass." When Elrond and Glorfindel gave a bow of their heads, John felt compelled to do the same before they took their leave. Now, he sat back down on the bed and really let out a long drawn breath.

"Mirian won't like this, not one bit." He mumbled, dreading the idea of going back to her room to tell her he was going to delay their return home.

'I'll be lucky if my ears can still hear anything by the time I leave that room.' He thought, before he took a tighter hold of his stick and stood back up. With slow and heavy steps, John made way out of his room and to Mirian's to face the teenager.

* * *

Lindir sighed as he stared at the pages of the book that, for the past hour, he has tried to read. His mind would not stray from thinking about earlier, and how angry Mirian was. He could not fault her for reacting the way she did, the twins should've been more cautious when engaging in their play.

'The poor girl has enough to deal with as it is.' He thought, finally shutting the book as he knew he wouldn't be doing any reading, at least not for the rest of the night. Lindir felt a strange sense of sympathy for her, perhaps because his love for music has made his heart soft over the ages. When he had come up to Mirian's balcony earlier he couldn't help but notice a hint of sorrow in her eyes, as if she had been about to shed tears.

Getting up from the chair in the study room, Lindir collected the books Erestor has lent him and leisurely walked out in the direction of his quarters. He wondered if Mirian was just as keen on leaving them now that she had more reason to do so.

'I feel that there are things here yet for her to discover.' He pondered. He couldn't explain why he felt that was, it was just an odd hunch he had. The mortals' strangeness in itself already brought curiosity to a few of the elves. They did not speak like those of the race of men dwelling south, that he was certain for he had many previous interactions with the likes of them as they came and went from The Last Homely House.

'Perhaps…perhaps the attack of the Orcs was not simply just that.' He tried not to shudder at the images he suddenly created. But still…had it been more than a misfortune? Was it really a coincidence that it happened just near where Glorfindel and his company were scouting, and that they were able to get to the two mortals in time before they were slain? Since he was young he knew that the Valar, and even Eru Ilúvatar himself, worked in mysterious ways sometimes. He wasn't sure if this might be one of those times where things had greater purpose than they appeared to have.

The dark haired elf shook his head. Regardless, there was no way to confirm such a thought, at least not yet. But he knew that the time for their departure was drawing near, and that maybe it really was just a coincidence.

'I am thinking too much of this, I must separate myself from this matter lest I drive myself mad with more questions and doubts.' With that mindset Lindir now reached an extension of the household, and walking down the dark hallways he ventured off to his room for a much needed rest.

* * *

Glorfindel headed off in search of the twins after Elrond had instructed the elf Lord to bring them to him. He knew that by the tone that Elrond used, that the twins were not going to get off easy, and with good reason too. He was also still trying to get over the shock when the elven Lord proposed speaking with Mirian, because he knew instantly that he would come face to face with a wrathful girl. It nearly caused him inner distress just thinking about what things she might possibly utter in front of him. Oh, he could just picture how much rudeness would spill out of her lips, and he wouldn't be able to stop himself for feeling mortified for Elrond having to witness such manner of disrespect from a mortal girl.

'I would pray for Lord Elrond not to engage with her, but I know it cannot be stopped. He's so keen on meeting her, and I can only dread the timing which he does.' He thought, heaving a sigh as he crossed a courtyard and entered into a hall room. He walked on for a while longer, before catching sight of the two culprits. Making quick steps the elf Lord approached Elladan and Elrohir.

"Lord Elrond wishes to see you both immediately." He brusquely said, catching the twins off guard for a moment. They looked at each other with worry written all over their face. They were just that transparent when it came to witnessing their father's rage.

"…Is he terribly upset with us?" Elladan dared to ask. They had to know just how angry he was before they treaded into dark waters. Glorfindel gave them a cool stare.

"What do you think? He already had to deal with the case of the Orcs, only to learn that his two sons have nearly brought harm to one of our guests tonight." At that Elrohir had to let out a slight huff.

"The girl could've been a little less hostile, if I may say so. We were able to prevent anything bad from happening – I even apologized to her many times only to be brushed off as if it meant nothing!"

"I do not agree with that girl's lack of respect, however if I had almost been run over I do not think I would have reacted any less upset. Now go before Lord Elrond's thin patience wears off from your delay to meet him." He told them.

Sucking in a breath, the elf twins made way out to suffer the ear-full that they would most likely receive from their father. Glorfindel shook his head and soon left himself to the kitchens. After all that has happened he felt in dire need of a few sips from wine to ease his throbbing head.

* * *

** I hope you guys liked this chapter! There was a little more conflict involved here, and I hope I didn't make it too tacky with how I went about it. Thanks and as always, please review! x**


	6. Escape

**Hi everyone! I feel that I should clarify something about this story, so that there is no confusion. This is set a few decades before the formation of the Fellowship (about 67 years prior), but after all the events in The Hobbit. More accurately speaking, this is set in year 2951 of the Third Age (relied on the LOTR wikia timeline).  
**

**Reviewers:**

**BorysBorys: I understand that the concept of 'mischievous twins' has worn out by now; I guess I haven't quite been able to separate myself from perceiving them as such. I won't overdo on it as I intend to keep this 'fanon' trait to a minimum. I will, however, make exceptions to occasional jokes and teasing from them as I see fit. Also, I would like to think that Elrond seldom loses his temper and/or becomes easily upset, but when he does that it would still form a sense of uneasiness (at least initially) for both, especially if it was something they felt guilty about and they knew disappointed their father. I still hope that you continue to read and enjoy the entirety of the story!**

**mandiecandie: She is indeed overdue for a wakeup call, huh? **

_**Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**_

* * *

Mirian stared at the wall across from her, her eyes glaring imaginary holes in them. It was early morning and she hasn't been able to sleep much since John had come to her room last night and delivered the most horrible news she's heard yet.

"Three days…three more fucking days." She grumbled, her eyes narrowing the more she thought about it. How could he do this to her? Hadn't he seen how desperate she was to get out of that place? It wasn't just because of the accident, she was already fed up with the whole thing altogether. She even tried to treat it as some sort of vacation, but she was counting on it to be short. Real short. Like four to five days max short. Now she learns that they'll be staying a little longer than that, and it just pissed her off to no end.

'I'm missing school, missing gymnastics practice, missing talking to my friends about all this shit going on—how does he not see that?' Mirian wanted to kick and scream like a 5-year-old, but she thought that was too childish. However, that did not stop her from giving John a piece of her mind still. She yelled alright, and he tried to reason with her until she made him start yelling back, but she yelled the loudest and in the end he just gave up and walked out. She didn't even have the motivation to feel triumphant because the amount of scorn she felt trumped that.

'None of this would've happened if mom was here.' Her eyes cast down to stare at the thin bangle her mother gave to her when she turned thirteen. It wasn't brand new since it looked worn out, so much that most of the designs on it were already faded. She remembered how she was hoping to get an iPod instead…

Sighing, Mirian pried her eyes away from it as she got up and walked over to the vanity mirror. She now blankly stared at the reflection looking back at her. Her eyes were slightly heavy and her mouth dry; her overall complexion was exhausted.

'I look like a dying patient.' She mused sarcastically, rolling her eyes and then looking back at the door. She knew that sooner or later some of those 'elves' would try to bring her breakfast, but she didn't feel like facing any of them anytime soon. With an idea popping in her head, Mirian walked over to a chair that was set aside by the balcony and dragged it over to the door. She pulled it up until she had it securely barred against the door knob. Luckily it fit, but to be sure she tested it out to see if it would open. It didn't. Mirian knew this probably wouldn't keep them out for long, but it still pleased her to feel some sense of achievement should their first attempt to get in fail.

Having done that she walked back over to the bed and sat down on it, pulling her legs up to her chest as she rested her head atop her knees. She was bored now. Nothing in that room gave her any excitement, because there was nothing there to do. There weren't any papers she could doodle on, no game boards, video games, a computer...

'If only I had gotten my bag back from that bastard.' The bag which the robber had stolen from Mirian had inside her cell phone, her iPod and headphones, some strips of gum, and some feminine essentials. She would kill to at the very least have her iPod with her right now, at least then she would be able to relax to the sound of her music.

The thought of music now made her think of the first meet she had with Lindir, and how the sound of his harp had drawn her over to his location. Mirian had a fixed preference in music, preferring Rock and occasional R&B over most. Still, the notes that the elf had been playing intrigued her tastes. It was gentle but not soft, swift yet careful. She could tell just how great his skills were when watching his hands move over the strings, as if he knew exactly which ones to stroke at precisely the right time. Mirian briefly wondered if his fingers would be just as good in playing a piano.

She remembered the first time she tried playing the piano during a 5th grade recital practice. Each student had to pick an instrument to practice over the course of the year, so that they could perform in front of their parents in the end. Her experience with it was a complete disaster; she didn't have enough patience to learn the correct key notes, how to read the music notes themselves, or how to play with her two hands at the same time. In the end she had settled for the lamest instrument they had… a tiny jingly bell. But even with that lame jingly bell she remembered her parents having big smiles as they clapped at the end of the performance, and being proud of her. That was before the fights started happening…

Mirian shook her head and pushed those memories aside. She wasn't going to well up in misery because of that now. She had more important things to worry about, like surviving in that godforsaken place until they could get the hell out.

* * *

It was 10:30 now, the weather outside being a little chillier than the day before. John dressed himself for the day, but of course his face was tired and worn out from having a restless night. Although he was glad his ears were intact, it didn't stop him from being upset with how Mirian reacted to the news. Sure he expected her to be mad about it, but what hurt the most was the way she was yelling at him, as if everything that's happened so far was all on him. John had already been partially blaming himself for it, but with Mirian throwing it right in his face? It just made him feel that much worse…

'She probably hates me right now.' He helplessly thought, finishing putting on his boots before using the stick to get up from the bed. He didn't care much for breakfast, figuring he'd go out for a little while and brood about things in the company of nature. Ever since he got there he had begun to take a liking to the outdoors.

Walking out of his room John started down the hall, and he could tell that his pace was a little better than the previous day. He still took his time in getting out in the open and following down one of the walkways, until he reached a large courtyard with a pond in the middle and a stone bench placed below an overhanging beech tree. He walked over to the bench and sat down with a soft sigh.

The sun rays seeped through and hit his body, providing some warmth in the cool morning. He stared at the pond now. In the middle of it there was a statue of a lady holding her arms out slightly in a graceful pose. The statue would be the kind of thing that Mandy would probably like having in the backyard of their old home. She was very attracted to antique things, and tried to incorporate a few of them into their household.

'I wish you were here now, Mandy. You could talk to your daughter the way I can't.' Mirian has always been mommy's girl, running to her before ever coming to him. And whenever she _did_ come to him it was usually to ask for something. Mirian's relationship with her mother was more on the emotional side, while her relationship with John involved getting some benefit out of it. He confessed that at times he felt jealous of the girls' closure while he himself was more preoccupied with his work. Still, he couldn't hold it against Mirian for seemingly loving her mother more than she did him, because there were things that only mother and daughter understood from each other, something that most fathers wouldn't be able to.

Caught up with his thoughts, John didn't notice someone slowly approaching him. He was only aware when a soft and feminine voice spoke.

"Are you not cold?" Blinking, John returned to reality and looked at the elf woman, the same one he saw back at the infirmary looking for lavender.

"Huh? Oh, it's not so bad."He finally said after regaining his wits. She smiled and looked at the empty spot on the bench, hesitating a little.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" John blinked and shook his head.

"No no, go ahead."He even slid over a little to make more room. The elf woman stepped forth and took a seat then. For a few minutes it was silent between them, only the sound of nature being heard all around. The elleth's eyes then cast down to his leg.

"How is your leg fairing as of late?" She carefully asked. At the mention John looked down at it, then back at her.

"It's coming along. Two more days and it should be in good shape." He said, giving a small smile. She nodded and returned the gesture.

"That is good news. My mind has been concerned about it since that day in the House of Healing. It was not until later that I have heard the cause of your injuries. It frightens me that Orcs have been sighted so close to Rivendell…" She gently spoke. John could only offer a nod in turn; he didn't want to make any rude remarks about how he thought they took this whole live action game a little too seriously.

The elleth then stared right at him. "My name is Ruiniel." She now introduced. There again was a name that he thought was odd…but not as odd as Finglas.

"I'm John Howard." He held out his hand for her to take, only to slowly pull back when she gave him a confused look.

"So um, have you been living here for a long time?"He asked after that brief awkwardness. Ruiniel looked ahead of her at the pond.

"I was brought to Rivendell when I was but a child. My mother and father were of the woodlands realm," She went on to explain. "I have lingered for 1800 years now, since both have left for the Grey Havens."

John couldn't help but get a blank expression when she told him her supposed 'age.' Going by appearance he thought that she couldn't be more than 30-years-old. Yeah, those people liked to exaggerate certain things, he figured. But this 'Grey Havens' she spoke of brought a light curiosity to him.

"What is the Grey Havens?"He asked; if anything he wanted to keep the conversation going a little longer.

"The Grey Havens is a port in the realm of Lindon. There the elves of Middle Earth eventually travel, drawn by the calling of the sea as we feel our hearts yearning to return home, to Valinor." Her eyes seemed to gain a sense of longing while speaking about it. John wasn't sure he was following all that, but the thought of home was enough for him to share in a little bit of the feeling.

"You long to return to your home as well, do you not?" Ruiniel asked, after a period of silence had passed them. John gave a short nod of his head, his eyes turning to look to the sky.

"I do want to go back. I've missed many days of work…I'll probably get fired." He mumbled. "My daughter's also getting impatient with how long it's taking for us to get back." The elf-maiden stared at him as he related to her.

"What of the mother? Is she here with you both?" She obviously hadn't heard the entirety of the story that revolved around the two mortals in Rivendell.

John's expression seemed to sink just a little more. "Her mother…she passed away three months ago." Ruiniel's brows frowned at the news.

"I am deeply sorry for your loss." She sincerely spoke, even placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. John gave her a tentative smile.

"Yeah, but we've had time to mourn." He lied. He knew Mirian was still having a hard time with it…and maybe he was having a little difficulty letting go as well. Now Ruiniel did not know what so say after such a saddening revelation. John was the one who broke the ice for her.

"I tried to be there for her after it happened, but all she really does is brush me off and keeps it all bottled up inside… "He didn't know why he was telling her personal details, it was as if someone had suddenly turned on a water faucet and was letting all the water rush down.

"I don't know how to reach her without her getting mad at me and shutting me out." He finished, hunching his body over as he rested his temple against the walking stick. Ruiniel didn't know how to soothe the father's worries; she saw clearly now that he was in a great deal of pain from not being able to properly communicate with his own daughter. Having had a wonderful relationship with her mother and father, it was heartbreaking for her to hear him say such things.

"Perhaps…perhaps she needs more time." She tried to say, but after it left her lips it seemed like a silly statement. John leaned back now and looked at her.

"Maybe she does, but I don't think it solves the fact that she needs to respect me more." The man twirled the stick in his hands.

"Or respect people in general, I know she's been giving some of you a hard time." Ruiniel pondered. She hadn't come across Mirian yet, only seen her from a distance. She did hear things from other elves though, things that she thought were sometimes a little overstated, but maybe not…

"Anyway, I better go check on her. Even if she's still mad at me I need to try and somehow mend things up." He said, starting to stand up with the support of the stick, before he looked down to Ruiniel and smiled.

"Hey, thanks for listening to me. I know it's got nothing to do with you, but it was nice getting some of that off my chest." With that John bid her goodbye and walked off, leaving a wondering Ruiniel to watch as he did.

As John made way to Mirian's room he couldn't help but feel his heart a little less heavy. Maybe he's been holding it in for so long that he just had to let some of it out. Doing that with Ruiniel was somehow easier than doing it with anyone else he's shared his concerns with.

* * *

Glorfindel made slow strides down the hallways, his mind feeling a little less cloudy since he was able to get some good rest. After the commotion that went on the previous night he had gone to the kitchens to drink some wine. Once he had had enough of it, and a fuzzy feeling had settled in it was as if his mind was able to push away his worries and troubles for that moment. He had then made way to his room and almost instantly crashed on the bed for sleep.

'Today I will train and carry out my duties with peace.' He confidently thought, before he stopped mid-step when he saw a nervous looking elf from the kitchens, holding a tray of food in her hands while pacing in front of Mirian's room. Curious, he wandered over to where she was and upon seeing Glorfindel approach the elleth gave a quick bow of respect.

"Lord Glorfindel." She softly spoke. He nodded to her and now stared at the tray of food.

"Is something amiss here?" He questioned, earning a look of concern mixed with uncertainty from the maiden.

"I have come to bring Lady Mirian her breakfast, but she has not answered the knockings," She started off. "I grew a little weary and so I attempted to open the door, but it would not."

Right. It was too good to be true. Glorfindel closed his eyes for a moment, opening them seconds later to stare at the door.

'I should have known that she would not seize, not even for today.' He thought, before taking a deep breath and stepping over to the door. He grabbed the knob and twisted it as he pushed, but as the maiden had said it would not open; it budged ever so slightly, but it would not open. Frowning, the elf Lord stepped back and tried to think of something. He could either kick it down, or perhaps attempt to get to her from the outside through the balcony. The latter seemed the most graceful, but the former much more satisfying…

He considered those two options for a while, before his mind made up and Glorfindel reeled his right leg back. With a swift move, he stomped his feet against the door. The maiden nearly dropped her tray from fright at the loud noise. He didn't succeed in the first kick, but he did feel that the impact had an effect, so he gave it another powerful kick. It took a third and final kick to have the door swing open, with the sound of something toppling over as it did.

The elf Lord then walked into the room, only to find it empty. His eyes caught sight of the knocked over chair, most likely the thing that was used to bar the door. And then he noticed the doors leading to the balcony were wide open as a chilly current came through. Eyes narrowing, he quickly crossed the room to it and stared out, just in time to catch Mirian running in the distance. Cursing under his breath, he hastily left the room and turned to the maiden still waiting at the hall.

"Send word to Lord Elrond that the girl has run away, and alert the guards so they can block all the exits from the city. Quickly now!" Startled, the elleth set the tray down before running off to do as told. Glorfindel then rushed off himself to pursue the girl.

'Valar, if this is some form of punishment it is one of the worst kind!' He thought while speeding off to the stables to get Asfaloth; he would have an easier time going after her if he were on his fast steed.

* * *

Mirian ran as fast as she could, her legs burning from the speed but she couldn't stop now. The minute someone was trying to kick down the door she had panicked and gone out the balcony. This was not the kind of excitement she was hoping for while being bored in that room. With heart and mind racing, she did the only thing she could think of, and that was to run away. She had no idea if they were trying to get her, but if they were she was going to do everything she could not to let them.

'Sorry dad, I can't stay here anymore!' She thought, rushing down a flight of stairs and across a long courtyard while trying not to trip in the process. She felt adrenaline pump through her veins like never before as she reached ground and made a run for the bridge. Mirian heard some shouts far behind in that foreign language they used. She didn't have to understand what the words meant to have a good idea that they had something to do with her, especially when she heard quick footsteps chasing after her.

Two guards who were at the bridge seemed to have heard the shouting and were now making to block her exit. She skidded to a stop, harsh pants coming out of her as she looked around wildly before taking a left turn and running towards an area of the woods. Her legs felt like they were on fire now, but she knew that if she stopped they would easily catch her.

'Come on, come on!' She ducked under the low branches of a tree and slipped into the massive thicket, her movements slowing down a bit as she had to push through all the plant-life that enveloped around her. She felt herself get a few scratches here and there, but she was too preoccupied with getting away to care at that moment. She finally passed through all the shrubbery and foliage and into an open clearing, stopping to hunch over and catch her breath. She couldn't remember a time she hated running the most in her life.

'Stupid Mirian. Why the hell did you book like that?' She scolded herself, but she couldn't go back on it now... since she took the initiative already she thought she had to see through it. Besides, if she was able to get away safe and sound, then maybe she could find her way back home and take it from there. She could go to the police and have them get her father, and then things could go back to being normal. She quickly raised her head when she heard the alarming sound of the elves nearing. Trying to ignore her dry throat plus the pain in her chest, Mirian ran off in a random direction to get lost in nature again.

Even as she ran and threw herself into as many dense areas of undergrowth as she could, they seemed to be getting closer to her. She didn't think she could keep this on for much longer. As with any luck she's had so far, Mirian eventually tripped over a tree root sticking out of the ground, and fell down with a yelp. A sharp pain followed as she struggled to get up, only to find out that she had a twisted her ankle.

"Damnit…damnit, damnit, damnit!" She hissed, now limping over to lean against the tree trunk. What was she going to do now? She couldn't keep running in this condition. Still panting, her eyes looked around her; she thought she had gotten deep enough into the woods at that point.

'I don't know…I don't know what to do now.' Mirian thought, helplessly looking at the leaf covered ground as her eyes began to sting.

'I want to go home…' She brought a hand to her face to wipe the tears that sprung out. This was all in the heat of the moment, she didn't plan on it. It was getting incredibly overwhelming for her. Then, the sound of speeding hooves reached her ears and she quickly turned around. They had gained on her. Making a last attempt to hide from them, she limped behind the large tree and lowered her body down between the largest protruding roots, hoping to god they would just pass right through. As the galloping horses came near, Mirian braced herself and shut her eyes tightly. She could feel a rush of wind on both sides as they ran at high speed.

'Please don't see me, please don't see me.' She chanted in her mind, gripping her arms even tighter. When the sound eventually faded, she slowly opened her eyes back up and let out a sigh of relief when she saw they hadn't spotted her, having seemingly gone right past where she was hiding. After staying there few minutes longer, Mirian began to come out of hiding only to freeze when she was met with the muzzle of a white horse.

Asfaloth let out a puff through the nostrils, while Glorfindel glared down at a now stunned Mirian. She stared up at him, eyes wide and paranoid.

"Stay away from me!" She warned, trying to limp backwards to put space between them. The elf Lord said nothing as he now dismounted his horse and stepped forward.

"Are you mad? Running off like that and into the woods. What if another Orc was to attack you?" He asked, his voice leveled but clearly angry.

"I bet you set that up so you could take me and my dad and make us hostages in your village of lunatics!" She shot back, her eyes now glaring at the elf. That remark was both shocking and more enraging to Glorfindel. Losing what little grace he had left, he quickly lunged forward to grab her arms tightly. She instantly struggled in his grip as she tried to pry away.

"Let go!" But the elf Lord only held on tighter.

"Do you think we are capable of creating such a cruel trap like that? To put at risk innocent lives at the hands of Orcs? You are truly mad!" He shouted, being beyond the point of civility with her now.

"You're all fucking crazy! You actually think you're elves—but it's fake, it's all fake!" She yelled back, still trying to get out of his grip.

"We _are_ elves! We are real! Look at our ears and you will see!" She violently shook her head in denial.

"No! You got plastic surgery to make them pointy like that, you're – you're freaks!" Glorfindel growled before letting go of her.

"Fine, believe what you want. But do not think that running away will make things any less than what they are. More importantly, you have fled while your father remains behind, worried sick for your safety." He stated, his voice lower but still furious. At the mention of John, she seemed to lose some of the aggression in her face.

"You go around, acting spiteful to all that come across you, to those who have only wished to help you! You have no care for others' feelings, not even that of your own father who has done nothing but care for you." This time, Miriam seemed to flinch at the words. Hearing those things from a stranger was tough for some reason…

Sensing that he seemed to be getting through her, Glorfindel now tried to change his tone a little.

"Why did you run?" He calmly asked. He knew that yelling and shouting would not solve anything in the end, and thus chose let go of his initial anger to try and reason with her. Mirian stared at him, still having some suspicion and uncertainty.

"They were trying to kick down the door," She started. "I don't know, I freaked out and went out through the balcony…"

"I was the one who kicked the door down, because you would not answer the maiden who had brought you food." He calmly clarified now. Had he known his unconventional decision to knock it down would make her react that way, Glorfindel would've most likely chosen the other option. And now that Mirian knew he was the one, it only made her limp back again as if afraid. His eyes finally took notice of her limp and he frowned.

"You are hurt."

"Like you care." She grumbled, looking away. Glorfindel ran a hand through his golden locks and sighed. There she went again; it was ridiculous...

"If I did not care I would not have come after you. We may not understand each other, but that does not mean I want any harm brought to you, or your father." He earned another disbelieving look from her, and so added,

"You do not have to believe me if you so wish, but try to be rational…you need to have that looked after." Mirian said nothing, but her eyes cast down to her sprained ankle with some doubt. What she did was beyond stupid, she knew that. But now she had to decide whether to trust him or not. She could feel through her sneakers that a swelling was beginning to form, and it was very uncomfortable.

'I can't run, I can't hide. I can't do anything but go back…' She thought, heaving a sigh before surrendering.

"Okay…I'll go back." Relieved with her resolution, Glorfindel now offered his hand for her to take. Mirian stared at it, still feeling unsure about all this…but she soon took his hand and he made to help her up his horse. He then got behind her and took the reins before riding them back to Rivendell.

* * *

"What do you mean she ran away?" Asked a baffled John. He had been on his way to Mirian's room when one of the elves approached him with the news.

"I do not know the details, but Lord Elrond has had all the entrances and exits blocked as we search for her." The man stared at the elf with a look of disbelief. Could she really have done such a thing? Just up and run like that?

"Oh god, Mirian…" He breathed, leaning back against the wall as he frowned. It was one thing after another. The elf then apologized and bowed his head before rushing off. John was completely lost now; he didn't think that she would do something so rash, especially since they had no idea what part of West Virginia they were at.

'I have to go find her.' Was his first thought, but at the pace he was having he would be like a turtle racing after a rabbit. Thinking fast, he now made way to find Lord Elrond. He had to make sure they were going to find her in one peace or he'd never forgive himself.

John tried to walk as fast as he could with the help of the stick, but he had no idea where Elrond could be in that immense household.

'I just have to keep looking.' He thought, pushing himself on as he attempted to locate the elven lord. What if she was hurt? What if she crossed paths with one of those Orc people and they attacked her? Countless 'what ifs' rang through John's head as he looked into every single household area he went into, asking any elf that went by if they knew where he was. Eventually one finally pointed him in the direction of his location, and he walked as fast as he could to it.

He was met with a series of stairways serving as obstacles, but he narrowed his eyes and forced himself to go up them. It didn't take long to feel his leg start to wear out from the amount of strain he was giving in rushing up the steps, but John ignored it as his daughter was more important. He finally reached the top and was glad when Elrond instantly came in his sight.

"Sir! Lord Elrond!" He called out without thinking, quickly shuffling over to where he was. Elrond turned, stunned at first to suddenly see John there, before his face turned serious.

"My friend, you should not be walking with so much haste…but I am aware of what has brought you to me in such a rush." He calmly said when John got to him.

"My daughter she—did they find her yet?" He asked with much breath after all the walking and going up stairs he had to do.

"I have received no news from my guards, except for the fact that she has ventured into the wilderness." At the mention of that, nearly all the color in John's face drained as instant fear struck him.

"She went into the woods?! Oh god what am I gonna do?" He panicked, running a quick hand through his messy hair, his eyebrows frowning like never before.

"You will do nothing. I have sent enough of my guards on horses to search for her." Elrond tried to assure him; he didn't want the man going off and trying something crazy like his daughter just did. John turned to him, his face showing desperation.

"I can't do nothing while my daughter's out there! I don't know if she's hurt or—or if one of those _things_ got her! I have to go look for her, I have to!" He pleaded with the elf. Elrond's brow creased, for he understood the man's distress. Reaching over he laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

"Trust my words when I say that they will safely return her to you." He carefully told him, his eyes staring right into John's worried ones. John stared back, and then down at the ground as he slowly caved in. Even if he wanted to go looking for Mirian, he wouldn't be much help. The guards would a better chance in locating her since they could move without any complications.

"I can't lose her too, not now." He softly spoke, his lip near trembling.

"We will not seize until we have found her, I promise you." Assure the Lord of Rivendell, seeing that John was allowing himself to put faith in him. Now, he had to put his own faith in his kindred and hope for the best.

* * *

It was dead silent as Glorfindel and Mirian rode back to Rivendell. He had Asfaloth at a medium gallop as he did not want to accidentally cause more damage to her injured ankle. He briefly looked down at her. Her anger had subdued since their argument, and she was now completely quiet and tame. He couldn't help but be glad about that; he feared for a moment that he might have to forcefully take her back kicking and screaming, cursing at him the whole time. He had silently thanked the Valar for that treat. His eyes then trailed further down as he saw a few scratches and cuts she got on her arms, most likely from brushing against sharp edges of plants and branches.

"Are you really an elf?" This question brought him out of his thoughts and he stared at Mirian.

"I really am…I swear on the grace of the Valar." He said, his tone much softer than it had been before. Mirian remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

Around 10 minutes later they finally came through the gates on the east side, and Glorfindel instantly rode them off to the House of Healing to have her ankle treated. When they got there, he dismounted and helped her down. She started to limp off to it but the elf shook his head, springing up behind her and taking her into his arms as it was much faster carrying her there.

Mirian was startled by this and went to resist, but something made her stop herself. She instead settled down while the elf Lord brought her inside the infirmary, and had the elf healers see to her injuries. He also spoke in Sindarin for another to alert Elrond of their return. The elf rushed off and Glorfindel looked back at Mirian, seeing the elves take off her shoe and inspect the large purple lump formed on the side, before getting right to healing it.

"You are lucky to have only sustained that much. Had you encountered real danger in the forest…" He trailed off, deciding not to pry on it any longer lest she be inclined to start another disagreement. Luckily there was no remark to be had from it, for the girl was tired and beat up. Not even 5 minutes passed when he heard rushing footsteps coming into the House of Healing.

John quickly went over to Mirian and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank god you're alright!" He said, happiness and relief rushing through him when he saw his daughter alive and well. Only when he pulled away did he finally notice that she had a few cuts, and a swollen ankle to top it off.

"Oh hunny, why did you go off like that?" He asked, staring right at her with worry still lingering in his eyes. Mirian's face remained cast down, feeling ashamed about causing such a racket. When she finally looked up at John, her eyes were brimming with tears as she now hugged him and started to cry.

"Mirian…" He frowned, then held on tight to her as he stroked her hair.

"Shhh, it's okay hunny, it's okay. Everything's fine now." He murmured to ease her, while Elrond and Glorfindel looked on at the scene. The elven Lord motioned Glorfindel to follow him out of the infirmary to give them more privacy.

"I thank you for finding her Glorfindel…I'm sure it was no simple task, bringing her back." Elrond spoke once they were outside. The Balrog slayer nodded, as it really had been draining for him, but he was glad to have succeeded.

"I suppose I shall have to delay my meeting with her. I feel they need this time to comfort each other, and to let her recover from her injuries." He stated, looking at the golden haired elf before he went off to call out the search now that Mirian was back.

Glorfindel watched him leave, before he looked back into the infirmary. He didn't know what would come out of this new development, but he wanted to believe that, after all this, Mirian would at least be a little more considerate of her father's feelings.

* * *

**This is it! I was actually a little skeptical when writing out this chapter, because I wasn't sure if the direction I was heading with this was too rushed and predictable. I know it probably isn't original, but I still felt compelled to do it this way. I also felt it was appropriate to have Glorfindel be the one to give her the scolding, since he's been dealing with her bad attitude the most out of all the other elves. I hope you guys liked it! Please Review as usual, thanks! x**


	7. Waiting

**Author's Note: I would like to firstly apologize for taking so long to update the story. I had to take some time to focus on my summer class session as it required quite a bit of studying. Then I also allowed myself a break to enjoy the start of Summer. Now that I finally got around to finishing Chapter 7, my goal is to hopefully have at least one Chapter out every week. I will do my best to keep with that.**

**Reviewers:**

**mandiecandie: Yeah it was fairly predictable, but again I think he deserved to be the one to talk some sense into her bad attitude about nearly everything. As to the purpose behind them suddenly showing up in ME, as you said, all in good time. Obviously it's nothing out of the ordinary, and I will hint that it has some kind of 'connection' to Gandalf—not directly though.**

**Borys68: Indeed! I think I made a mention of it in an earlier chapter about Estel becoming Aragorn :). When you spoke about the twins running with clown costumes I instantly pictured Elrond face palming, haha! And I think a small smack to the cheek would do for Mirian, although the elves (as far as I know) don't exert 'physical punishment' on misbehaving children; as for John I don't think he'd be capable, unless he's REALLY driven to the edge…**

**Guest: Yes, her attitude doesn't completely excuse her behavior, but everyone reacts differently to things that happen with them, right? Some better than others.**

**Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**

* * *

It has been two days since Mirian's attempt at leaving Rivendell on her own. Ever since then the girl has not yelled at anyone, nor has she complained about anything. It wasn't as if she had abruptly started smiling and being kind to everyone she came in contact with, but she wasn't being snappy or rude, a great improvement. John has been by her side while she remained at the House of Healing, waiting on her ankle to heal.

The elf healers had also insisted that he needed to have some more therapy treatment to his leg, after having exerted on it when rushing off to Elrond after hearing Mirian had run off. He had strained his muscle leg too much, especially when speeding up countless flights of stairs to reach the elven Lord. That about delayed his full recovery to a few more days. Not that it mattered much since they had to wait longer for Mirian's ankle to heal now, which they said could take a week or two if needed.

Mirian was not happy when they delivered this news to her, but all she did was sigh and sulk in reserve. In the late afternoon of the same day she was brought back, John had tried to coax her into talking about what made her run away like that, but getting her to talk about it was still a trying task. It wasn't until evening that she decided to tell him. After learning the details, John felt somewhat divided about partially blaming Glorfindel for driving her off. For a moment he couldn't help but think that, had the elf Lord not opted to start kicking down the door, had he chosen to take a less violent action, then maybe Mirian wouldn't have fled in panic. But the fact that she told him it was her who barred the door and didn't answer to people calling out for her ultimately made him decide not to bring it up with him.

The morning of the second day, Lord Elrond visited John at the time Mirian was still asleep, and the two had a brief conversation with one another.

"The elves have told me that your leg must be given some more time to properly heal…but I do not think that compares to the length you will need to stay as your daughter now awaits for her own healing." He stated as they walked out of the infirmary, the Lord not wanting to stir the youth.

"Yeah. I heard it might take a week or longer," John sighed, brushing some annoying strands of hair off his face. "I know Mirian's not happy about it, but at least she's not making a fuss. I think what happened gave her enough of a scare to settle down."

Elrond looked beyond into the infirmary and at the bed Mirian lay. Her ankle had been given several herbal and divine treatments in the hope of making it a faster recovery.

"Glorfindel has brought to my attention that the girl has been showing lack of belief in the fact that we are of elven race." He stated, his eyes turning back to look at John.

The Lord's statement was first met with a clueless face, before it turned to one of submission.

"Well, I didn't want to be rude or anything by bringing it up…you people have been very helpful and nice to us." He tried to lay it down gently, but the intense stare Elrond was giving him made him feel uncomfortable. Still patient, Elrond decided to further prod on it.

"Where you come from, have your people not heard of elves?" He asked. John rubbed the back of his head, feeling the air become more and more awkward with the subject.

"Erm, elves don't…_really_ exist. In books and fairytales maybe, but not real life…right?" This statement raised many curious questions in the elven Lord's mind. Were these people dwelling in a heavily primitive area of Middle Earth? No. Their speech and clothes, although eccentric, proved that they were not to be compared with that of the wildmen. Then what could've isolated them enough that they thought elves were fictitious beings?

"I must admit that this is rather puzzling." Elrond muttered, his brows furrowing slightly. John stared at him, not sure if he was jesting or really confused.

"Where do you hail from?" The Lord decided to ask now.

"I'm from Kingwood." John answered. Elrond grew silent as he thought on the name. It sounded unfamiliar, and to someone who knew practically every place in Arda, that was saying something…

"Is it a recent settlement of men that has been built in Middle Earth?" It had to be the only explanation, but the look that John gave him told him otherwise.

"Uh, I don't know what you're talking about…you mean you've never heard of Kingwood in this state?" State? What did he mean by state?

"John, I do not believe I have heard of this 'Kingwood' in any sense of the word." The Lord stated. Even more confused, John shook his head.

"No no, I mean the state as in West Virginia." He clarified. It was odd to have to explain something so simple to these actors or whatever they were. Surely they were just playing the part…?

"I do not know what this 'West Virginia' is either." Elrond had to admit, it did frustrate him a slight bit that he could not recognize such names of places.

John himself was at a loss now. How could he explain those things on their terms? He himself was starting to get a little apprehensive about this whole 'in character' thing.

"Look, I know this is probably a huge deal to you guys and I'm not judging or anything, but…can we forget about the pretend game for a few seconds? This is pretty serious." He said. He didn't know how else to word that. Lord Elrond again gave him a quizzical look; he had no idea what he was talking about.

"What 'pretend game' are you referring to, my friend?" He questioned calmly. John rubbed the back of his neck, now getting more awkward about this whole thing.

"Well you know…this whole fantasy world play that you guys are putting up, with being elves and all that." So, it seemed as if Mirian wasn't the only one who didn't believe in the existence of their race, was what came to Elrond's mind. He was told by Glorfindel how the girl had not believed in such things, thinking they were making everything up. Now the father showed the same mindset. Come to think about it, perhaps there was something more complicated than the two just living under a rock…

"I understand that you do not believe that us elves truly exist. It is possible that there may be some mysterious magic at work here." He muttered, more so to himself. John continued to stare at Elrond like he didn't know whether to sigh or shout in frustration. This was leading to be more complicated than he thought.

"Perhaps the first concern is making sure that you and your daughter recover without any mishaps this time." He decided to say, knowing that by the look on John's face the man was quite uncomfortable with the matter, not keen on discussing it any further as of now.

"Yeah, yeah you're right…" He nodded, finally agreeing with him.

"Well then, I shall take my leave so that you have a proper rest." He gave a curt nod of his head before swiftly walking away from the House of Healing. As he did, many thoughts were running through his mind. They did not believe in elves, but how is that possible? Every race in Middle Earth, to some extent, knew about the race of elves, the first to dwell through these lands.

'I have a feeling that this is much more than what it appears to be…perhaps I should seek council with someone…' Elrond thought, deciding to make a brief visit to the library.

* * *

"That mortal girl is nothing but trouble, I fear." Said a dark haired elf maiden as she washed some fine fabrics at an enclosed vicinity. Ruiniel pursed her lips a slight bit, not liking the tone she was using to speak about Mirian.

"I think you misjudge her so, Faeriel." The auburn haired elleth stated. Faeriel looked at her friend almost with a look of disbelief.

"You do not mean to say that you understand her, do you? Mellon, she is outrageous! Have you not been warned of her ill manners ever since she came to Rivendell?" Ruiniel further dunked the fabric into the water of the deep basin, as if physically showing her distress on the topic.

"Yes, I _have_ been told of her mannerisms, but do you not think there might be a deeper reason for her…her rebellious actions?" The dark haired maiden shook her head and continued to gently scrub a green tunic.

"That maybe be so, however that does not come to excuse how she presents herself to others, especially to those who have been nothing but kind and helpful to her." Yes, she had a point, but after talking with John personally Ruiniel could not help but think her friend's claim to be unfair to some degree. She has come to know about the passing of Mirian's mother through John, and despite him saying that they've had time to mourn she knew that a mere few months couldn't fully heal the loss of a loved one like that. Faeriel stared at the other elleth as she got a faraway look and raised a brow.

"Ruiniel?" She called out. Her calling her name brought the maiden out of her stupor.

"Pardon me?" She was met with a suspicious stare now.

"Tell me…recently you have been more absent of mind than I have seen you in a long time. Why is it that you seem so bothered with the ordeal?" That question brought a light blush to Ruiniel's cheeks, and she quickly bowed her head down so her friend wouldn't see, pretending to be engrossed in the washing.

"It's not that, I just do not think it is fair to pass on misconceptions about someone when we ourselves do not know the full extent of the matter." She excused. Faeriel didn't seem to fully believe her words, but decided not to prod as she focused on getting her chores done.

'Perhaps I am involving myself too much…I must keep my mind away as it is not my place to intrude.'

* * *

Mirian began to open her eyes, only to shut them again and turn away from the blinding sensation caused by sunlight.

"Ugh." She groaned, taking her time in finally turning back over to face whatever this day may bring her.

"Morning sunshine." John greeted teasingly from the other bed. She sniffled a little, before glancing over to her father sitting up and twirling his walking stick. Just seconds of looking at it made everything come back to her, and with that the guilt once again settled in. Because of her she got her ankle sprained, plus caused her father to strain his bad leg which now earned him another few days of recovery. Life sucked for her consciousness right now.

"Morning." She mumbled before sitting up and rubbing her eyes of sleep.

"How are you feeling?" He asked now.

"Fine, I guess." Her hand instantly reached to touch her healing ankle. Her father's eyes strayed over to it as well and tried not to sigh. They were going to be there longer than they anticipated; they already _were_ staying there much longer because of his leg, but now with his delayed healing combined with Mirian's much slower one…he just hoped no more trouble would come of such consequence. She pulled her hand back and glanced around.

"Did they bring breakfast yet?" Mirian earned a nod from her father.

"They did, but you were still asleep. It's almost lunchtime though." He said, before adding in. "Do you want to eat something right now? I could go get someone."

"No, I'll wait until lunch." She instantly said, not wanting to be more troublesome. She had come to terms with the fact that she needed to suck it up at sometimes and not give into her fiery temper. Mirian figured that that way she would likely piss off less people and create less tension than she has been since she arrived in that place. Two days after her little runaway attempt and she's made progress in not making any snide remarks to those who approached her, either to work on her ankle or to give her food or occasionally ask if she needed anything. If she kept that up, by the time she was healed up she might be able to walk out of there without too many negative looks.

'They probably want me out of here asap as much as I do.' She thought, and with that thought Glorfindel instantly came to mind. That elf was probably one who would be most happy to have her leave his home after all she's put him through. Mirian did know she probably overreacted one too many times, and ended up taking it out on the Elf Lord when he had nothing to do with her teenage tantrums. She thought she should probably apologize to him at some point too…

'I hate saying sorry.' More than that, Mirian hated being wrong _knowing _that she was wrong. It was one thing to firmly believe that she had every reason to act the way she did, but it was a whole other thing when she was well aware that some of her actions were uncalled for. Stuck with her own thoughts, she barely noticed one of the healing elves enter the infirmary and make his way over to her.

"My lady?" He gently called out to get her attention. She blinked and looked to him.

"It is time." He didn't have to explain further, since she knew what he meant by that. With a nod, she pulled the sheets over to reveal her less swollen ankle. The elf, carrying a small container with ointment, dabbed two fingers into the pasty substance and then carefully applied to the injury. It had a bit of a cooling effect that always sent light shivers down Mirian's spine. The elf glanced to her and smiled slightly before concentrating on the task at hand again. After applying the ointment he proceeded with some divine chanting as he slowly ran a hand over the covered area, barely touching her as he did.

John watched this in silence with Mirian; it was the same kind of therapeutic healing that has been done to his leg before. The chanting of the male elf left him in a small trance as it often did. Mirian seemed to experience something similar as she as quiet as a lamb, just taking in the foreign but soothing words. About five minutes later the elf was done, and with a bow he left to tend to other duties. Mirian breathed a small sigh and looked over the treatment before covering herself with the sheets again.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Her father said after a small while. She looked at him with a confused look.

"What's weird?" John motioned his head to her ankle.

"What they do…whatever they're chanting it's like you're put into some kind of spell." He shrugged a bit after. She didn't respond right away, her mind processing over the feeling she got whenever she went through that.

"Yeah, it's really weird…maybe a little creepy even." That earned a chuckle from John.

"Yeah, a little bit." He agreed and smiled. Her mouth twitched as if she was going to return the smile, but didn't. It was still hard for Mirian to just let it all go at once. She was still upset about being there, about not being able to go home and see he friends, to have gymnastic practice, and other things. There was nothing for her to do in this foreign place but wait, and wait, and wait...

Waiting was something Mirian did a lot of, but never got used to doing. She wanted things to be done in her own terms, but of course that was an impossible feat for anyone. There wasn't a single person who could have everything in the world at their disposal, even when people thought they could. It just didn't work like that. In a make believe reality, you could do anything you wanted whenever, wherever, and however you liked. If Mirian was in a make believe reality, she would have her mother be alive, or better yet have her parents still together as the happy family they used to be. But life did not work like that. Things happened for a reason or for no reason at all. Some were just, others weren't. Some things you could prevent, others you couldn't. It may be simple but at the same time very complicated to comprehend, why things happened the way they did when they did.

Mirian looked out to the open doors of the infirmary. The outdoors was brimming with sunlight, casting glows to the greenery and making it so marvelous she didn't think it possible. Nature was a funny thing; it could be beautiful one moment, and then completely ruin your life the next. She should have never run off like that…she should have never gone after her stolen purse. But what was the use in sulking and mulling over things that already happened? She couldn't change them like she wanted to, so the best thing to do was to bear with what was happening now until they were able to go home.

The figure of Glorfindel was then spotted coming through the open doors. He walked over to the two mortals and gave a nod of greeting.

"How are you both fairing?" He asked, looking from Mirian to John. The latter spoke for the both.

"As well as we can be." The Elf Lord nodded, glad that at least they were offering no complaints about their injuries. His eyes then looked over to Mirian again who would not look directly at him. It was very curious how her attitude had drastically changed in the last two days. She barely said anything to him since, and of course the sudden decline in her disrespect had made him very happy, but at the same time being met with silence wasn't exactly pleasant either.

"The healing elves have been trying to make for a speedy recovery on your ankle, so that you would not need to wait too long for it to heal." He told her. She only gave a small nod, still not looking at him. He didn't know what else to say then, so he turned to John.

"Food will be brought to you shortly." With a slight bow, Glorfindel headed off. His visits have been very brief. He couldn't figure why Mirian's meekness made him feel some discomfort. He should be rejoicing in the fact that she wasn't spewing out snide comments, glaring or yelling at him as she used to. Perhaps he had grown so used to her ill-manners that he found this new side of her peculiar.

'I should be very much glad that she has decided to act properly now.' He thought, shaking his head and looking right ahead as he walked. And now that she seemed so passive, maybe the two could get along a little more during their stay. But something still bothered him to a certain degree. Why had she so vehemently professed to not believe the race of the elves to be real? Granted she could have come from a very secluded place of Middle Earth, but just as Elrond's mind doubted that notion Glorfindel couldn't help but feel that there may be something more to it.

'Perhaps I should speak with Lord Elrond on this matter. He ought to offer a better explanation.' He thought, his legs now taking him straight to the elven Lord's residence.

* * *

"I cannot give you any explanation, my friend." Elrond confessed to Glorfindel upon their meet. The golden haired elf stared at him with a dumfounded expression. Seated in his pristine chair, the Lord of Rivendell laced his fingers together and pondered.

"I do not believe it to be a simple matter of them having come from a much unknown dwelling of men. Thus, as I cannot give you any explanation as of yet, I can say what I do believe, and that is that there might be something greater at work." Glorfindel watched the dark haired elf, his thoughts being one the same as his.

"My Lord, I too have thought it to be something of the like. However…what could it possibly be?" Upon posing that question, Elrond slowly rose from his seat and walked to the side, stopping short in front of the window as he stared out into the beauty of Rivendell.

"Many things are comprehensible to us in this world. Things even men could not hope to understand," He began. "However, there are things still unknown, things we have yet to learn."

Elrond reached forward to gently finger the silk curtains. They were so light and soft to the touch, thanks to the weaving skills of the elves. The race was knowledgeable in many things, be it of mind or physical talent. They were considered to be fair folk, of grace and beauty like none other. In its perfection, however, there were weaknesses to be found. No being was truly perfect.

"I have sent word to one who may offer us more clarification." He stated now, rousing Glorfindel's curiosity even more.

"Who, my lord?" Elrond slowly turned his head to look at Glorfindel, his expression baring both doubt and hope.

"The wizard."

The Balrog Slayer went quiet now. Seeking council with the Wizard? Could he really give them some guidance on the matter? Come to think of it, it was likely that he could. Magic was not unknown to elves, but even so there were still mysteries revolving around such power. The extent to which it could be used no one truly knew. Lord Elrond walked back and stopped next to a small table, where a book lay.

"It may seem too trivial an issue for him, however I trust that he will find the circumstances of the two mortals most interesting."

* * *

After having eaten their lunch, John decided to take a small afternoon nap while Mirian remained awake and bored. Being bed ridden was never fun, she could barely do anything.

'I'll go mad.' She thought, her calm façade near breaking point. Time seemed to go much slower when she had nothing to do, and that irritated her to no end. It didn't help that they had no form of entertainment that could occupy her time, like a TV.

'There's nothing to do here!' She sighed and ran a frustrated hand through her messy hair. These wannabe elves…or maybe they weren't wannabes. Glorfindel sounded very serious in asserting their existence when she questioned it. Could they actually be real like he said? Or were they too brainwashed to believe that they were? He sounded so sincere, but still…

Mirian's eyes looked to the doors again as she caught someone walking in from the corner of her eyes. She was a little surprised to see that it was Arwen. The beautiful maiden smiled kindly as she walked over to her bedside, setting down a small wooden box that she had been carrying before seating herself on the edge.

"Hello Mirian." She greeted. The girl was caught speechless for a moment. She hadn't seen Arwen in a few days.

"Hi…what are you doing here?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I came to see how you were fairing." Arwen said, as if it was obvious. Mirian stared at her, then looked down at the sheets.

"Huh…I thought you'd avoid me after what I pulled." The elf maiden raised a brow at that, before shaking her head and placing a hand on top of hers.

"What you did was reckless, I do admit…however I will not look unkindly upon you. I know it must be hard to wait for the day you may return home." She said. Mirian looked back up at her with a frown.

"But why? You could just ignore me like the rest. You don't have to talk to me or anything if you don't want to." She glanced over to her sleeping father.

"I already caused a shitload of trouble..." The elleth stared at the young girl as she said this; there was a clear trace of remorse in her tone.

"There are those who do not understand the way you feel, and there are those curious about you." She said, reaching the hand up to now turn Mirian's face to look at her.

"And I will not abandon you, as that would not be something a friend would do." She offered another smile. Mirian couldn't understand why this woman was so kind to her, but it did make her feel a bit better to know that she was willing to overlook her mistakes. This time, Mirian returned the smile.

"Thanks." The maiden was very pleased with this, as she felt Mirian was letting her into her heart a little more.

"Now then, I trust it must be quite tedious lying in this bed with nothing to do." She said, now reaching for the wooden box again and pulling the lid open. Curious, Mirian peered over to find out what was inside.

"I was not quite sure what to bring. I thought reading poems would not quite appeal to you." She pulled out a few stings, and then some beads of various different shapes and colors. Mirian raised an eyebrow.

"You want to make bracelets or something?" Arwen nodded.

"Bracelets, necklaces, things of the like. It may not seem that exciting, but when I was small I used to do this with my mother, and when the days felt longer than usual it helped in the passing of time." She explained, before looking right at Mirian again. The girl looked unsure of the activity; it probably did not match her tastes. Now the Evenstar began to question whether it was a good idea…

"Would you rather not?" The girl stared at Arwen, then down at the materials. For a few seconds she didn't respond as she thought about it. Arwen did look like she was trying to make this easier on her, even if her choice of activity was a little too girly for her. Bead making?

"Well…sure beats reading poems." She finally decided, taking one string and then some of the beads. Happy, Arwen did the same and the two set out to work.

* * *

**That's Chapter 7! Sorry this was a little bit shorter, and once again I apologize for taking so long to update. Still, I hope you liked it. Please Review!**


	8. What to Believe

**Reviewers:**

**mandiecandie: I'm very happy that you're excited about this, I'm trying to speed things up a little bit, but hopefully not too much that it seems like it's very rushed you know? I also want to thank you for the constant support, it means a lot to me! :) **

**DeLacus: Thank you very much! I'm glad you're liking it :D**

**Nevalia: Thank you for the review. You've brought up some good points. For the fact that they don't seem to quickly believe the existence of elves, especially with how practically everything about them and Rivendell supposedly has this ethereal appearance, it seems somewhat unrealistic that they would be so quickly taken to the concept, especially with how our modern world is today and how movies portray things with special effects and whatnot. I just didn't want to rush on the subject; I wanted to give it a bit more time before it began to develop. Chapter 8 does deal with that transition from disbelief to a start of conformity, if you will. Also, thank you for bringing up the 'Lady' thing, I wasn't sure what elves used as formalities, but you're right perhaps 'Lady Mirian' is too formal and mostly reserved to those with real title, so in this chapter I have taken that into consideration.**

_**Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of the canon characters, only my original characters.**_

* * *

'Elves…do they really exist? Could it be really be true?' That was something that bothered Mirian nonstop now. There were facts that pointed to yes, but her mind, warped by modern day's special effects and technological advances just couldn't help but remain doubtful still. If they were real, if everything was real, then how come they hadn't known about these people before? How come they haven't been on broadcast news or doing things like movies as they probably would with how beautiful the lot of them were? Maybe they were hiding from the rest of civilization. Maybe they didn't want to mix themselves with the crazy world that man created.

Groaning, Mirian turned on her side and stared at a wall. It was the middle of the night when she had woken up from her slumber after having a dream about these 'elves.' They held a soft glow that she often saw them in, but mistook it for some kind of lighting of the room or some other unexplainable reason that made them look that way. She was stubborn with these sorts of things, not because she wanted to be, but because experience and reason told her to. Of course she would be psyched to know that elves really did exist, and better yet they weren't gnome sized or worked for a fat man called Santa Claus. These elves were elegant, near perfection if she considered so. Yet, reason told her not to give into the idea quite yet; it sounded very farfetched, and perhaps they were just _very_ good at pretending to be what they said they were. Some images flashed in her mind, of the orcs, the chase, the genuine fear that struck her when she set eyes on the one that gnawed on a limb…even if that was a staged scene or prop of sorts it all felt too real to be fake.

'Maybe…maybe they really are telling the truth.' She mused over, frowning slightly. If that was the case, how in the world did she and John end up stumbling upon their own little society? Okay, they didn't _stumble_ per se, there were other things that happened prior to them even coming in contact with Glorfindel and his party. However, the fact was and still remained that _they_ came to meet them. Why them? And the circumstances in which they did were really weird and suspicious too. First her purse was stolen, then she had half the wit to go chase after the guy, then her klutzy self tripped and just _happened_ to do so near a cliff; her father came and tried to help her out, but they both ended up losing grip and falling into the lake below, which then had them go off into the woods where all hell broke loose afterwards. In the end they're saved by these elves and brought to this enchanting place to be treated. Wasn't everything just too good to be true? Too insane even?

Shaking her head, she sat up in bed. She wasn't going to be able to sleep with her brain replaying flashbacks and posing all these unanswered questions. Mirian glanced over to her father who was, very unlike her, sleeping soundly on the next bed.

'Good for you, dad.' She thought, a little envious. Her eyes then took a survey around the darkened infirmary, her eyes adjusting more to the darkness especially since the moonlight was shining in through the balcony.

'Walk. I need to walk.' With that she slowly and very quietly slipped out of bed, and she was ready to walk off if it wasn't for her ankle. It was almost completely healed now, but she wasn't able to walk without limping just yet. Pursing her lips, she then looked at John's walking stick that was set against the wall. It was just there for the taking, really. So, wasting no time, she reached over and gripped it, using it to help her walk out of there while still trying to be quiet so as to not wake him up. It was a little difficult at first, but once used to it she was able to walk at a fair pace.

She spent the first five minutes just wandering about, but never straying away from the walkway she was on. It was starting to get colder outside, which signaled that winter was just around the corner. She finally got tired of walking and limping, and the first bench she spotted was the one she sat on to rest. As she sat, her thoughts once again wandered, but briefly so as someone soon called her attention.

"Is it not late for you to be outside?" Her head snapped to the left, as if she had been startled by the sudden voice. She sighed when she saw it was Glorfindel, who in turn stared at her curiously.

"I couldn't sleep." She finally answered, looking away from him. There it was again, that submissive attitude. He just couldn't help but feel strange about it, even if he did prefer this calmer demeanor she was showing.

"May I sit?" He hesitantly asked. He could've just sat down if he wanted to, she was no owner of the bench, but it was common courtesy and to do so without asking her permission could make her uncomfortable. She looked at the empty spot next to her, and after a moment's thought nodded. Glorfindel approached and sat down. There was a distinct awkward silence between the two, given what they've been through and their strained relationship with one another. The Elf Lord stared ahead of him, not making eye contact with the girl quite yet as he tried to think of a way to break that silence.

"…How is your ankle?" Was all he could come up with. Mirian's eyes instantly shot down to it, before she gave a shrug.

"It's getting better." She answered.

"That is most welcoming news." He said now, but after he did he thought it sounded somewhat odd coming from him. He tried to regain himself with a few additional words. "Soon enough, you and your father will be able to go home."

"Yeah." She mumbled in turn. Attempting a normal conversation with her was harder than Glorfindel had thought it would be. Perhaps the ill feelings of their previous interactions were still too present to make this seem natural. If he were to mend things between them, it would most likely take a little bit of time, and effort on both parties. He wasn't sure if she would hold up on her end, though…

Mirian did feel awkward sitting with him and talking like that, very different from the usual sarcasm and snide remarks she used before. It was a nice change, but still very much odd. She bit her inside cheek, battling with herself on whether to say something first this time. Her eyes were glued to the ground, her hands turned to fists.

"I don't understand." She finally got out. It took a moment for Glorfindel to react, him turning to look at her with questioning eyes.

"What do you not understand?" She wasn't sure if she should've said that, but now that she did she had to continue. The doubts were driving her near insanity at this point.

"How elves could exist. I mean, why haven't you been found out by the media? Are you guys hiding out?" She was dying to understand this unrealistic concept. Glorfindel stared at her with a look she knew all too well by now. He looked to be in the dark as much as others were whenever she said something that they weren't familiar with.

"I do not know what you mean by this 'media,' however we are not trying to hide from anyone." He stared. "We do, however, live in well protected regions so that foul and evil things may not cause us harm."

Recently, though, such foul and evil things were beginning to get much too near elvish settlements for their liking. It wasn't just in Rivendell, it was in other places as well such as the forest of Mirkwood, where the giant spiders were said to be getting smarter and daring. Lothlórien albeit a place under great protection of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn still experienced some occasional encounters with orcs and other creatures that once lurked in the shadows, but were now growing bolder. It was of great concern, one that was driving more of their people to sail off to Valinor at greater numbers. Such notion was still much too complicated for someone like Mirian to fully understand.

"Foul and evil things…like the orcs, right?" The Elf Lord nodded in agreement.

"Yes, orcs are one of the most detested beings of the like. They are cruel, kill without mercy…" He numbly spoke. He had seen what they could do, and have fought and killed countless of them. Glorfindel thought they were most vile of creatures, and rightfully so. They were bred for evil, stemmed from the creation of one of the most powerful and terrified beings to have walked Middle Earth. They were cruel and savage, they wouldn't so much as think before killing off an infant; it was like an instinct to them. Now it has nearly become automatic for those who defended their homes to kill these beasts in the same manner, without thought or benevolence of any kind.

"But…why haven't you been found out by the public? Do you even know the world outside of yours? How it's like?" Mirian pressed on, almost frustrated as he wasn't giving her any clear answer about the mystery revolving the elves. Glorfindel continued to stare at the girl, being just as confused as she was. There was a clear division of knowledge between these mortals and the elves of Rivendell. There was also evidence of differences in some of their mannerisms when compared to their past interactions with the race of men from other parts of Middle Earth. How could that be, though?

"…Perhaps you should describe to me what your home is like? Then I might be able to form some kind of explanation that may make things clearer, for the both of us." He proposed. That was the only way he could think to make sense of all this nonsense. At first Mirian thought it would be a waste of time, that it would just jumble things up even more… then again, if she wanted to understand things then she should at least give it a try. So then, she thought about the things she wanted to say, things that were very much known to her, but was probably very foreign to Glorfindel.

"I guess I could start with something like a car…" The invention of the automobile was way too complicated for Mirian to go into detail about it, just laid out the basic facts: it was made of metal, and conveniently meant to take people places very far and very fast. The Elf Lord did not speak at all on that matter, but his mind was already going haywire with this form of vehicle that he had never heard in all his thousand years of life. He urged her to tell him more, his curiosity soon trumping over his doubts and perplexities. Mirian spoke of skyscrapers, the iPod, TV, and a few other mindless things that made up the material world she lived in. Of course, Starbucks was included on that list. All those things were heavily complicated, and like the automobile she didn't go into great detail on how they came to be, how they were invented or anything like that. A teenager like herself just laid out the practicalities that benefited her. All these things were said in a span of an hour, something both failed to realize in midst of this newfound discovery, at least on Glorfindel's part. He was perplexed by everything, and some of the things she tried to explain were still very much unreal to the elf, but he kept an open mind about it because the thought of men creating such advanced things, even if most were done so through greed, was extraordinary. He had to relate these things to Lord Elrond the first chance he got.

"By Valar, I never thought such a place existed!" He said, expressing clearly his surprise at all that she's told him. Mirian didn't think all that she's said would get that kind of reaction from him, but she felt they were getting somewhere, maybe.

"Alright, I told you all this stuff, now it's your turn." She said, motioning him to start talking. Glorfindel had to take a moment to come down from his buzzing thoughts about the new and strange things he just learned.

"I suppose it is only fair. Very well then." He first thought up a way to start this, and naturally opened with the history of Middle Earth and how it came to be, because he felt that wherever Mirian and John came from, it was nowhere where they stuck now. He spoke with great fondness of the creator, Eru Ilúvatar, and the Valar. He tried to describe the many beautiful and unique things about the elves' history, but also touched up on the other races that lived there, especially mentioning the settlements of the race of men so the girl would have some familiarity with it. Not all things he said were pretty though, because Glorfindel knew he had to make sure she understood the evils that lurked in the world, of the battles that have been previously fought against the orcs and the powerful force that was Sauron. He tried to include as much in as brief a time as he could, because he had a hunch that Mirian would not be patient enough to hear him speak for hours on about history, which he very well could.

"That is…unbelievable." She said when he ended. It was very unbelievable, and any sensible and reasonable person would very much doubt such stories. Mirian was usually such a person, but not this time. She was giving this a chance. She was trying to believe that all he told her was real, just as she knew he was trying to understand all the things she said before. Aside from a few things, she thought this strange land she and John ended up in was somewhat of a spinoff on medieval times, with a few fantasy-like qualities to it.

"Do you still hold doubt in my words?" He asked, as that was what he thought she meant with her statement. Mirian looked at him, and then slowly shook her head.

"It's not that. It's just…hard, you know? You think you know what's real and what's not, and then this comes up out of nowhere. It's like, supernatural or something." She sighed. Mirian couldn't explain it well in words. "What I mean is, I believe you. It's still very weird and hard to understand, but I'll...I'll keep my mind open."

The Elf Lord smiled, relieved by her words. He himself would have to try and comprehend the home she had described to him, as it was very much beyond what he's ever thought.

"You and I are in the same state, I believe. I too must come to terms with what you have told me as it is most odd and yet...interesting. Lord Elrond himself has called upon the Wizard, one who we hope will help us understand the circumstances in which you and your father have come to be here." He told her. Still, he would definitely have to tell Lord Elrond of what he just learned, and once the Wizard arrived they would hopefully be able to sort out the mysteries around these two.

"The Wizard?" She raised an eyebrow. There were Wizards there too? She wondered if they could do real magic…

"Yes, he has probably dealt with much strange sorcery through his life. We believe that perhaps your happening upon these woods has some magic involved." He couldn't go into further detail with her on it for lack of knowledge himself, but he was yearning to know just what caused them to suddenly disappear from their homeland and enter theirs. It was most intriguing and, to a certain extent, alarming. If such powerful magic was behind it, what else could happen? Could something more evil than Orcs materialize within their borders? He hoped not.

"Hm…well he better get here soon." She stated, grabbing the walking stick again and using it to help her up. "I should try to get some sleep again." The Elf Lord nodded as he also stood now.

"That would be wise." He, however, didn't need to sleep much as elves were fairly resilient to things like sleep and food.

"Yeah, well…night." She said before heading off.

"Good night." He responded, watching her until she disappeared from sight. Glorfindel then turned and began to head off to his home. He figured he would sort out the information fed to him by her before he reported it to Elrond. There were still things he did not yet understand but that he hoped to soon. This sort of mystery was very puzzling to the elf, as he was sure it would be just as much to Lord Elrond or any other residing in Rivendell.

'In the morrow I will speak with Lord Elrond of this.' He thought decisively as he walked down a snaked pathway toward his dwelling. He already felt somewhat impatient for the Wizard to arrive, but he knew it would probably take some time before he did.

* * *

"You will be fully recovered within the end of this week, miss." Said one of the healing elves to Mirian that morning. She had come to examine her ankle, and indeed there was no more swelling or bruise; the therapy did wonders to it. The news was very relieving to the girl, having been cooped up inside that infirmary most of the days' duration.

"I will arrange so that you may return to the room you were previously taking residence in for the remainder of your recovery." She added in. That was another plus as the smell of herbs was starting to get to Mirian. She already didn't like the smell of medicine to begin with, but since she had sprained her ankle and been bed ridden in the House of Healing she had no choice but to put up with it. The days in there were also usually spent in great laziness. Even if Arwen sometimes came to keep her company she was still very much bored out of her mind. John tried to entertain her a few times by talking or playing a game like 'eye spy', but that was only amusing for so long. If only she had some of the basic needs she used to have, like her iPod…

"That's great to hear!" John said, expressing it more outwardly than his daughter. He had been given the okay for his leg the day before, and despite knowing he could sleep in the room they had allowed him to stay in he still chose to remain in the House of Healing with Mirian, to follow up on her healing and to keep her company. Though she didn't say it, she appreciated it. The girl was starting to realize the efforts of her father, even if she still got annoyed with him sometimes. She had to at least give him credit for being patient and putting up with her bitching self so much.

The elf maiden then left them be, just as breakfast was being brought over to the two. John thanked the elves who brought small but filling trays of food for the both before they left.

"Looks good." He commented, staring at today's assortment of fruits, breads, ham, and slices of cheese. Except Mirian's did not have cheese as they were quick to note her dislike of it. Instead she got a sweet bun, something she took a liking to and ate first. The two ate their meal in silence, but Mirian's mind was already back to the conversation she had with Glorfindel last night. If she was starting to believe that elves were real, and that everything else he's told her was really true, how did John feel about it? Her eyes turned to look at her father, who had his mouth full at the moment. Would he believe them too?

"Dad?" She suddenly called. In the middle of grabbing the bread he turned to her.

"Hm?" Mirian hesitated next, not sure if she should bother him with it. Her curiosity was much too great to ignore, though.

"Do you…do you really think they could be real elves?" She finally got out. That question earned a look of confusion and surprise.

"What…do you believe they are?" John had to admit that was a bit of a troubling thought. Had they finally gotten to his daughter?

"Well…I don't know I mean…now that I think about it they don't look like posers or whatever." She started off. "Do you really think they could keep up this act for so long?"

Now that was something to think over. She had a point. If they really were actors of any kind (and mighty good at it if so) they surely wouldn't be able to continue like this for as long as they had…unless they took breaks while he and Mirian weren't looking.

"I don't know what to tell you, Mirian. Even with they say they're elves, and I find myself believing sometimes too, there's still this fishy sort of feeling, you know?" John, like his daughter, was very much wrapped up in the reasoning part of himself. Reason told him it was not likely, that this was perhaps a set up from a TV reality show or some other wacked up thing. But real elves? Was it really possible?

He did often think back on those he's come in contact with, like Elrond, Glorfindel, Finglas, but especially Ruiniel. He didn't detect any strained expression or rehearsed lines when he spoke with her, everything she said sounded so very natural. Maybe that was reason to believe she was just that skilled in her act? That she was so good that it made anyone believe that all she said was true? No. Even if it wasn't he couldn't have a low opinion of her. He had opened up a little of his heart to the maiden that one day, and he couldn't bring himself to think that her words had been tailored to appease him without genuine concern or honesty on her part. He felt she was good at heart, and despite him not trusting his gut feeling very often, he wanted to trust it now.

"I know, but dad…it really doesn't look that way. I really think that…that they are telling the truth." She openly admitted. He couldn't hide the fact that her defending them was no less of a shock to him. Mirian was usually very hardheaded, and her previous actions clearly testified to it. But to be hearing her speak the way she was right now? To be giving them the benefit of a doubt when she was so adamant in thinking it otherwise before? It was almost mindboggling. And sudden.

'I hope they didn't do any brainwash on her.' He thought, but then shook his head. Even if the possibility was there that was not a nice thought to think of, not only because it was worrying but because it was rather offensive to those who have done nothing but care for them. He couldn't at all deny their kindness and patience towards them, especially with Mirian.

"If they are really telling the truth sweetie, then I don't know what to do…" The concept of elves really existing was not only surreal, but very beyond his comprehension. To him, if elves were to exist they would either be the idealized version of Santa's helpers, or they would be much smaller and more impish looking. These people professing to be elves were nothing alike the image he had painted in his head. They were graceful, kind, human in appearance save for the pointed ears (at least that characteristic was accurate), and at night they had this odd glow to them, something that like Mirian he also couldn't explain.

Mirian decided to drop the subject. She didn't want to start an argument with her dad, at least not that early in the day. She knew he didn't quite believe it, but he had that same doubt she had before which told her that there was still time to change his mind. Not to say that she had completely surrendered to the idea, but she was getting there. Looking at Arwen whenever she came around always sent her back into thinking about it. The elf maiden was very much the image of believability, she thought. And whenever she looked at her she felt more comfortable with the idea of being among elves. Maybe because they had become friends…

Perhaps it wasn't a bad thing that they did exist, if anything it should be very exciting, something she could tell her friends once she returned home. She doubted they'd believe her – well, maybe Kevin would since he was more susceptible to superstitions and the supernatural. He's even made up his mind about zombies one day rising from the earth and taking over the world. Now Reilly was another ball game. She was probably even more stubborn than Mirian herself. She had said that even when she was a kid she didn't really believe in things like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. If Mirian told her of having encountered real elves? She'd probably laugh in her face. It brought a bit of nostalgia now, one that made her lose her appetite quickly.

"I'm done." She mumbled, pushing the tray away with barely half the food being eaten. John, who had naturally resumed his eating even after that awkward talk, looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Already? Mirian, you barely ate anything…" But she just shook her head and crossed her arms.

"I'm not that hungry." Was her response. Sighing, John decided not to push as he took her tray to finish it off for her; he wasn't going to let the food go to waste. This habit that Mirian got to only eating a small portion did worry him a little, however. He wasn't sure if it was that whole teenage girl thing about appearance and looking skinny that had her doing that. To him Mirian could do with gaining a few more pounds, she looked sickly half the time. Still, he didn't want to argue with her on it, not this early anyway.

The trays, now empty, were later retrieved by one of the kitchen elves, and once that happened Mirian stood up to take a walk outside.

"Where are you going?" John asked right away as he went to stand up. She stopped and looked back at him.

"I'm just gonna go get some air…don't worry I won't cause trouble." She promised as if she knew he was thinking about that. John paused. Indeed he had been thinking about it, but as she had easily caught him he had to recover somehow.

"Well…okay then, but don't go off too far, okay?" He had to give her a chance. He's seen the change in her attitude, and he figured that he could at least give her the benefit of a doubt. John wanted to trust that she could behave now.

"Yeah okay." She said before heading out. Now that she was gone, John sat down. What could he do now? There wasn't much_ to_ do there…or maybe there was? His leg was fine now, he could walk properly and everything. Maybe he could do some easy work around the place as a form of gratitude to Lord Elrond and the others, at least until Mirian was given the definite 'okay' on her ankle.

'I think I'll go have a talk with that Elrond guy.' He thought, standing back up and making his way out. Now to find the Elven Lord he'd have to ask someone where he was, and the first person he happened upon was none other than Ruiniel. A smile already spread on his face as he approached her.

"Hey, good morning." He greeted. Ruiniel turned to him and smiled before giving a light bow of her head.

"Good morning." She said back. John looked briefly to the basket she had in her hands, one that was filled with various types of fabrics of different colors.

"Are you heading off to do laundry?" He asked, but received a questioning look from the maiden.

"What is this '_Lawn-dree'_?" Oh right. John shook his head.

"Sorry, I mean if you were heading off to wash clothes." He explained so she understood.

"Oh yes, I am." She confirmed with a nod. Her eyes then seemed to search him for a brief moment.

"Do you no longer need assistance in walking?" Ruiniel nearly bit her tongue afterwards. It was a little bit bold to ask…

"No no, my leg's all better now, thank god." He expressed, grinning as he was very happy about that. She smiled again as she knew he must be so, but then her smile faltered when she realized that soon he would probably be leaving Rivendell. She heard Mirian's recovery was going well and that it was only a matter of a few days before her injury would be deemed fully healed.

"I suppose you and your daughter will be headed home fairly soon." She couldn't help but think aloud. John nodded and went to put his hands in his pockets, only to find that the breeches he wore had no pockets. Slightly embarrassed, he just left his hands to the side.

"Yeah, we're just waiting out on Mirian for a few more days and then we'll probably go." He said, but this time his tone held less enthusiasm.

"I see…well I am very happy for you – the both of you." She quickly corrected, feeling her face flush ever so slightly at that.

"Thanks, I'm sure Mirian's already counting the days." He joked, yet not really. If he knew her well, she probably really was counting the days until they left Rivendell. But talking with Ruiniel about it did give him a small feeling of forlorn. The elf maiden herself felt the same way, because she grew to like John's company over the days…

"So um, do you need help with that?" John asked, wanting to divert the subject. She looked at him, then at her basket.

"Oh no, it is quite alright." She assured, but John shook his head and reached over, taking the basket from her.

"Nonsense, at least let me carry it for you. Now that my leg's all healed up, I can't stay put for too long so I need to do something around here. Come on." He urged her to continue walking where she was going, him completely forgetting about Elrond. Another smile was brought to her face at his gesture, and so she began to lead the way to the washing area with John walking by her side.

* * *

In a long winding dirt path a lone figure walked on, his wooden staff offering assistance as he hummed lightly to himself. He wore some gray garbs and a pointy hat that shielded most of his face, save for his bushy brows and his long white beard. Just yesterday he had received a most interesting message from the Lady of the Light, who had actually passed on a message from the Lord of Rivendell. So there was some mystery about two mortals that had come to the elven settlement, was it? There wasn't much to go on as details were kept very brief, but the thing that had him set off so soon was the word 'magic.' Whenever such a word was used in conjunction with the mention of the race of men the Wizard could not help but worry to a certain degree, not because he felt men were weak beings who would submit to such power, even though most likely would, but because magic held more mystery to itself than he could ever think of.

A Wizard knew what he knew, but even if he held much knowledge of sorcery of the likes, he still did not know everything there was to know about the magnitude that magic would take, how far or how dangerous it could be for someone who did not or could not know how to yield it properly. Yes, it was most curious to him about this mystery revolving the mortals now residing in Rivendell, and he would have nothing more to go on until he arrived in that place and examined them for himself. Lady Galadriel, after having received such a message to pass on, did hand him a bit of her own advice to him. She had not sensed any evil coming from it, but she had indeed felt a slight disturbance in the essence of life over a week ago. Her mirror offered no explanation that she could decipher, so she had told him to make haste and to exercise caution as well.

He of course abided to her urging, and so set off from the Shire as soon as he could. Now here he was, just a few days away from the elven realm, his mind rushing with questions and suppositions. Yet it would do him no good to assume things when he knew so little still.

'Very intriguing indeed.' He thought, his head rising slightly to look upon the blue sky above him. Such a fine day it was, he mused, but for how long?

* * *

** Chapter 8 done! What did you guys think? I hope I didn't rush too much. Gandalf is coming up soon, most likely in the next or the following chapter after. Things will start to unravel more! Please review as always!**


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